


The Curse

by HoloUnicorn



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, But no one dies, Caretaking, Death Threats, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, M/M, Macavity and Munkustrap and Tugger are brothers, Macavity is straight up evil, Misto gets real sick and Tugger struggles, Tugger POV, Victoria and Misto are siblings, but not a lot, i guess, skimbleshanks the railway dad, some other characters are named in passing, some violence, tugger is incredibly soft for misto, tuggoffelees - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoloUnicorn/pseuds/HoloUnicorn
Summary: The Rum Tum Tugger has a... complicated relationship with his brother Macavity, to put it in the nicest possible way, and it's a problem he'd be happy to run away from for the rest of his life. Unfortunately for him, life isn't so keen on that.Despite the sadness in his past, Tugger finds himself happy and in love with his wonderful new mate Mistoffelees. But when Macavity reappears and threatens everything he holds dear, Tugger is pushed to his absolute limit, and comes to realise he must confront the past in order to save his future.
Relationships: Demeter/Munkustrap (Cats), Mr. Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger, hinted Alonzo/Cassandra, hinted Victoria/Plato
Comments: 20
Kudos: 141





	The Curse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hearth_goddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearth_goddess/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Angst Prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/580093) by Uppasthejelliclemoon. 



> So I was inspired by an ask from the wonderful uppastthejelliclemoon on Tumblr, who was an absolute babe and let me go ahead and create this fic! Her response is included as part of this fic, within the dotted lines (~~ are the little bit I edited to retain POV). This my first contribution to the incredible Cats fandom and I hope everyone likes it!

It all started with Macavity. 

Didn’t it always? Macavity would create some drama, Munkustrap would fight him off, the Jellicles carried on. Same old. 

The truth was, Tugger feared his oldest brother. Macavity inspired a specific kind of horrific terror within him that was impossible to put into words.

It hadn’t always been like this though, Tugger remembered when he was a kitten he would run around with Macavity, learning how to pounce, how to dance, the two of them laughing until their stomachs hurt. Macavity was playful and spirited. Their favourite game was seeing how high up he could magically levitate Tugger, it had felt like he was flying! He remembered soaring towards the sky, seeing all the city stretch out beyond the Junkyard, then falling, always landing safely in his big brother’s arms. Yes, he had been an extremely happy kit. But then, everything changed.

Macavity started to go off the rails soon after their mother left, going further and further down that dark road, getting deeper and deeper into more powerful and brutal magic. The Jellicles believed that he was just grieving the loss of Grizabella, and Old Deuteronomy let them believe it. Their father had not seen, or more likely he did not want to see what Macavity was becoming; none of them did. Munk saw, but there was little he could do.

Macavity became cruel and cold. He no longer wanted to play with Tugger, but preferred to brood in silence, hypnotising rats in quiet corners of the junkyard, his powers growing. He was no longer the playful, fun big brother he once was, which was a lesson Tugger learned very well on that day. He had been bored, and despite Munk telling him to keep his distance, his fickle curiosity got the best of him. 

“Hey, Mac! Come play, don’t just sit here by yourself!”

“Go away, Tugger.”

“Aww come on, you never play anymore, just for a little bit!” 

“Leave me alone, I’m warning you.”

Tugger reached out and playfully grabbed his brother’s tail, and that was a big mistake. Macavity hissed and swiped at him, powerful enough to knock him off his paws.

“Mac!” he yowled. He lay trembling, sprawled in the dirt where he had fallen. A trickle of blood dripped onto the ground. 

“GO!” Macavity was furious, anger radiated from every hair of his fur. Tugger whined in fright; he wanted to leave, but he was frozen, his ears flattened back on his head, as Macavity approached him. His brother glared at him, his eyes the narrowest slit of black on flaming orange. He towered over Tugger.

“I said, ‘go’,” Mac repeated, his voice low and soft, almost a purr, but dripping with danger and malice. But Tugger couldn’t, he was stuck to the ground, his paws wouldn’t obey him. Then his time was up. Macavity crackled with dark magic, and suddenly Tugger was flying through the air. He smashed through a mountain of broken furniture and landed in a heap in the middle of the main junkyard clearing, causing the other kittens playing there to shriek in fright. 

He couldn’t remember much of what happened after that, all he could remember was muffled shouting, a great deal of pain, and a strong ringing in his ears. Old Deuteronomy had banished his eldest son, and Tugger had licked his wounds and wondered what in the Heaviside he had done to make his brother act like that. He never did work it out, but Macavity seemed keen that he shouldn’t forget it. 

His brother attacked the junkyard sporadically over the next few years, but always seemed to single Tugger out. Even after the others fought him off, his voice still lingered. No matter how fast or far Tugger ran from Macavity when he appeared, the voice would always find him, whispering through the walls of his every hiding spot, twisting around him like some dark creeping poisonous plant, sneaking under his skin and coiling around his chest, hissing about how it was all his fault, distressing and tormenting him until he was shivering and sobbing, curled up into a tiny ball, paws pressed painfully far into his ears, only coming out when Munkustrap or his father managed to track him down, hours later. He wanted it to stop, but the thought that he could ever find the courage to face Macavity was nothing short of laughable, and he prayed to the Everlasting Cat that he would never have to.

His prayer was answered. At least, for a while it was, until after the Jellicle Ball, a few years later. 

Tugger was now fully grown, and had his eye firmly set on Mistoffelees, the small black magical cat who had appeared in the Junkyard with his sister Victoria, not long after Macavity’s banishment. Bustopher Jones had brought them in, after finding the two young cats scavenging for food behind one of his clubs. Tugger and Mistoffelees got along right away. Although at first he seemed shy and aloof, the young tom quickly adapted to life in the junkyard, and displayed an incorrigible talent for mischief and snark. By the time they were both fully grown, they had become best friends. 

He was fascinated by the magical tux. Tugger loved to flirt and he was good at it, but he regularly, and often insultingly, lost interest as soon as his target cat was taken in by his charms. It was inevitable. But Mistoffelees was some sort of exception. The little tom appeared to be immune to him! All his best lines and moves seemed to rebound off of him! It drove Tugger crazy. While other cats fell at his feet, squealing in delight at the slightest scrap of attention, Misto merely smirked and flounced away, calling him a “terrible bore”. Any other cat would have given up when faced with such marked disinterest, but he was The Rum Tum Tugger, and he was not so easily written off. 

He began to pursue Mistoffelees more intensely, quickly losing interest in other cats. After a year, his feelings had evolved into something new, something even more exciting, something that made frivolous flings boring by comparison. He had not seen it coming, but he soon knew that this was more than just the thrill of a chase; he planned to ask Misto to dance with him at the ball. He wanted them to be mates - proper, official, _exclusive_ mates. Mistoffelees was the one for him, the thought of his magical cat with any other tom or queen filled Tugger with a very strong and unsightly jealousy. He had never imagined himself a one-cat tom, yet here he was, and the thought of it filled him with great excitement. Underneath all of their banter was a deep affection and unbreakable trust; Tugger knew he could tell his Misto anything, and that he was truly the only cat he could ever be happy with.

Macavity’s surprise appearance at the ball threw a wrench in his plans. As soon as he knew his eldest brother was there, Tugger had grabbed Mistoffelees and ran. He’d heard a rumour Macavity was hunting other magical cats; he didn’t know why, and didn’t really want to either, what mattered was protecting Misto from him. Since learning of it, the Jellicles had kept Misto’s magic a secret, keeping him concealed and therefore safe from the Mystery Cat. But then Macavity had taken Old Deuteronomy, and Mistoffelees was their only hope. 

Tugger knew it was too much to ask. Knowing the risks and the danger it could put him in, it had been agonising to ask Misto to bring his father back. He would no longer be hidden, in fact it was all but painting a target on his back! But Misto had immediately stepped up - he was a braver cat than Tugger by far. Holding his head high, his fur sparkling, the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees pulled off his greatest trick yet. Tugger bared his soul, and sang his heart out to the cat who had captured it so completely. 

Using so much powerful magic completely drained the little tux, and the moment the ball ended he all but collapsed. Tugger had to prise him from the clutches of the horde of excited and grateful Jellicles, and then all but fling him over his shoulders to get him away from the main square. Misto did not object to practically being lifted, nor to being brought to Tugger’s den, which was much closer than his own. 

Normally, attempting to pick Misto up was a very dangerous move. It seemed easy, the magical cat was rather small. However, it usually resulted in the offending cat’s fur being suddenly dyed an outrageous colour, and not being put back to normal until an acceptable apology was produced. Not only that, if Misto was feeling particularly vindictive, he would make himself invisible. Pouncival had once thought himself highly amusing, joking that he could now pick Mistoffelees up, having grown larger than him. Resultantly, he had been stuck for three whole days afterwards because he hadn’t been able to find Mistoffelees again, his coat a vivid magenta with bright blue spots. The memory of it could still bring tears of laughter to the kittens’ eyes. 

Right now, however, Tugger felt safe enough to risk it. Misto’s whole body was shaking with exhaustion, and he passed out as soon as he was laid down on the blankets. Tugger curled around him, gently licking his ears, before enveloping him completely in his thick fur as he drifted comfortably off to sleep. 

Misto slept all throughout the next day, not even opening an eye until the second day after the Jellicle Ball. Tugger was lounging in a patch of sun by the entrance of his den, expertly placed to keep an eye on both the main junkyard square and the bumfle of blankets containing one magical cat. He snickered quietly, seeing Tumblebrutus and Pouncival attempt to out-backflip each other, while Victoria and Electra watched on, giggling. 

Victoria was a good one, she had come by the day before to sit with her brother while Tugger hunted, and she was the only cat he would have trusted to do that besides Munkustrap. She even managed to keep her teasing to a minimum for once, despite finding Tugger wrapped around Misto so tightly that the small tux was almost completely hidden by his fluffy mane. Tori was protective of her brother, had deduced Tugger’s crush on him almost instantly, and had not let up on him since. He had no doubt she’d bring this up later, when everything was back to normal. She had the same gift of sass as Misto, and an identical evil grin, but it was all worth it, she wouldn’t tease if she thought him unsuitable mate-material for her brother, and her approval was critical to his chances of success. 

A bleary but bright yellow eye pierced through the darkness of the den, catching Tugger’s attention. Looking over, he saw Mistoffelees wriggle himself free of the blankets and wince as he stretched his muscles.

“Morning~,” Tugger drawled with a lazy smile. Mistoffelees stared at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re the one in _my_ den, Sparkles.” 

Misto blinked, and looked around him in confusion. Tugger smirked. He drew himself up, stretching luxuriously, and sauntered across the den, hips swaying attractively, tail wrapping itself around the other cat’s. Misto merely rolled his eyes and lightly swatted at him.

“You were ready to keel over and my den was closest,” Tugger purred. “I assure you, you did not complain.”

“How chivalrous of you. I hope I played a satisfactory damsel in distress,” he responded in a deadpan voice. 

“A performance worthy of Gus.”

Misto snorted. He made to stand, but his legs wobbled dangerously underneath him, and he would have fallen if Tugger had not lunged forward to catch him. He held the smaller tom upright, supporting him, thankful that his thick coat would hide the blush burning across his face.

“I’m fine,” Misto grumbled, hissing slightly as he shook out his paws one by one.

It was Tugger’s turn to snort.

“Sure you are. You need to take it easy,” he added, suddenly serious. “That was a big trick you pulled, you have to rest up.”

“Careful, Tugs,” he teased, “you’re sounding terribly boring right now.”

Tugger growled lowly and stepped even closer, so that their noses were practically touching. Mistoffelees’ eyes widened, and he fell silent.

“I’m serious, Misto. I know you’re prone to overworking, but you can’t do that this time! You could do yourself serious damage if you push your body too hard before it’s properly healed!”

“Tugs-” The smaller cat was staring at him in shock, but Tugger was on a roll now.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? I need you to be alright because I love you and-”

Misto gasped, and Tugger froze, his brain catching up with his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that! No, no, no! It was all wrong! He was supposed to confess in a highly romantic setting, under the Jellicle moon! He would sweep the magical cat off of his feet, they would dance until the dawn, and Misto would finally say yes!

“Tugs?” Mistoffelees asked cautiously, after a beat. “Did you mean that?”

“I… Well…” Well, the cat was truly among the pollicles now. “Yeah, I did.” He added on lamely with a weak grin. He must be mad. What an awful confession, not at all his brand. If only the floor beneath him would open up and swallow him whole. But Misto’s face broke out into a huge grin and he threw himself at Tugger, taking the larger cat by surprise, and sending them both tumbling to the floor.

“I love you, too!”

“Wait, what?” Tugger blinked slowly as Misto’s words sank in. “...You’re serious?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Misto said emphatically. “Everlasting, Tugs, I’ve liked you for ages! I just didn’t think you were wanting to settle down with one cat.”

“Only with you, Sparkles, if you’ll have me. I feel like I’ve loved you for ages. I was planning to ask you to dance at the Jellicle Ball, and tell you then, but then all that stuff happened and… yeah. Now this is all a mess, but,” he sat up quickly, grabbing the smaller cat’s paws and holding them in his own, “my magical Mr. Mistoffelees, will you do me the very great honour of becoming my mate?”

“Of _course_ I will, you ridiculous cat!”

Tugger let out a wild laugh of relief and joy, and pulled his new mate in for their first kiss.

***

Thus began one of the most excellent weeks in Tugger’s life. Every morning he rose early, and after the lengthy task of coaxing Misto into awakeness, he would take a stroll, head held high, tail twisted proudly around his shiny new mate’s. He made sure their walk covered every inhabited inch of the junkyard, so that every Jellicle could witness their new bonding. The days passed with many games and jokes with the kittens while Misto gossiped with Bombalurina, hunting lunch together, lying close to each other in the sun for afternoon naps. 

The day after he woke up, despite Tugger’s protests, Misto resumed practising his magical dances. Tugger resolved to keep an eye on him, but soon realised he had little to worry about. His mate’s powers were completely restored, and many perfect hours were spent watching him expertly twirl and sparkle with a deep sense of contentment. At night, he loved grooming Misto’s sleek black fur as they curled up to go to sleep. How could he possibly ever get bored of this? 

Was he obnoxious in parading his new happiness? 

Certainly not. 

Was he a ridiculous show off who had to gush to absolutely everyone at all times about his incredible new mate? 

… Absolutely. 

He was giddy as a kit, he couldn’t stop grinning, or jumping about excitedly; he felt like nothing could touch him. Although his antics drew eyerolls and fondly exasperated sighs (and many of them from Misto himself), he was deadly serious when it came to obtaining approval from the cats whose opinions really mattered.

Old Deuteronomy, who had delayed his return to the vicarage in order to see Misto returned to full health, had been delighted by their news. He ruffled both of their ears in a highly embarrassing dad-like way, voicing his happiness that his youngest son had found a mate so good for him, so well-suited to his personality, with whom he finally wanted to settle down. He reminded them both to love and cherish each other every day, and to always support one another. That would be easy, Tugger thought as his father walked away, nuzzling his wonderful mate happily. 

Next, they went to Victoria. In order to tease her brother, she had pretended to be furious, chasing Tugger around the junkyard several times, until they both collapsed onto each other, howling with laughter, and Misto had thrown a pawful of sparks at them, embarrassed at being fooled. While Tugger would normally be 100% up for a prank war, he made sure to be apologetic and affectionate, he absolutely did not want to be stuck with a blue mane or something just before seeking the approval of the next important cat on their list.

Skimbleshanks, who Tugger knew Misto saw as a father figure, was always going to be the hardest sell. When the timid tux first arrived in the junkyard, the Railway Cat had immediately taken him under his wing, and remained close and protective of him to this day. Predictably, Skimble did not seem overjoyed by the news. He put on a convincing expression of happiness for Misto, but the minute the magical cat’s back was turned, Tugger found himself squirming under a furious glare. He did his best to look demure and mature. In hindsight, he probably should not have stolen Skimble’s bagpipes at the Jellicle Ball, particularly when he was actively trying to woo his son. A good impression of a responsible and trustworthy son-in-law it did not make. And while Misto was unbothered by Tugger’s flirtatious nature (seriously, it meant _nothing_ , it was blatantly obvious that Tugger’s true heart fully belonged to him), Skimbleshanks, understandably he supposed, saw Tugger as nothing but a fickle and noncommittal tom out to break his son’s heart. 

The two of them came to an unspoken agreement to never voice any of this, for they both knew that Mistoffelees would be crushed if they didn’t get along. Tugger knew that Skimble remained unconvinced of his worthiness, but he trusted his adopted son’s judgement, and Tugger had full confidence that he could win him over anyway. He would absolutely prove himself an excellent and very loyal mate to Misto. 

Munkustrap, undoubtedly, already knew by the time they got to him - he knew everything that went on in the junkyard. His older brother looked exhausted from pulling many extra patrols; he was convinced that Macavity would be back sooner than later, furious that Old Deuteronomy had been snatched from under his nose. Kidnapping their father had been his largest play yet, and it had totally freaked Munk out. Despite that, his brother was genuinely pleased for them, even joking (Munkustrap made a _joke_ ) that it was about time.

He should’ve known it was too good to last.

It turned out that Munk had been right to be worried, and Tugger really should have been, too. He got distracted by his newfound happiness, and Macavity really didn’t like them getting too happy. 

The Mystery Cat did appear, a mere week after his attack on the ball. Tugger had been patrolling with Alonzo when a rat the size of a small pollicle suddenly appeared in front of them, hissing and spitting and thrashing its ugly-ass tail. The two toms froze. What in the name of the Everlasting Cat was this abomination? It was unlike any rat they had ever seen. The thing was huge, with greasy black fur, and it absolutely reeked. It turned its nasty twitching nose to them, sniffing at the air for a moment before rushing at them with a fur-raising shriek. Tugger and Alonzo hissed and pounced. The rat fought viciously, snapping its sharp teeth, but with a little struggle they brought it down with a dull thump. They barely had a chance to catch their breath when several screams erupted from behind them. With a quick nod to each other, they took off, sprinting back towards the main junkyard square.

It was like entering into a nightmare, at least twenty of the beasts were swarming around, each of them at least double the size of a regular rat. Tugger immediately pounced on one chasing Jemima, knocking it away with a snarl. He crouched protectively in front of his niece as the rat rebounded and ran forward again. It looked almost... possessed, somehow. Its body was unnaturally swollen, as if it had been stung repeatedly by bees. Its body was frenzied, but then its eyes were dull and blank. What the Heaviside was happening? His claws caught the rat’s throat, and with a spurt of blood it fell. 

“C’mon, Jems!” he called. Jemima whimpered in fear, but stuck close to his shoulder as they sprinted across the yard to where Jenny was herding the other kittens, shielded by Plato and Cassandra. There were so many rats, they were everywhere, he didn’t know how they could beat them all. The air was filled with the shrieks and mewls of rat and cat alike. He launched himself back into the fray and pounced, barrelling into one that had got onto Coricopat’s back, and together they took it down. Tugger’s paws were sticky with blood, the smell was _dreadful_. He saw Munkustrap fighting three at once and he ran to his brother, crashing headlong into one of the rats and sending it flying into another.

“Tugs!” Munkustrap shouted as he flung the third rat away from him, earning them a brief respite. “Tugs, it’s Macavity, he set the rats on us, he went straight for Mistoffelees, that way - go!” Munk turned to meet another rat heading for them, and Tugger immediately took off in the direction he pointed. His insides had turned to ice. Of course it was Macavity! He had gone for Misto… _he knew_ , Macavity knew about his magic!

He rounded the corner as fast as his paws could carry him, but then he froze. Several dead rats lay around him, their mangy fur still crackling slightly with electricity. Misto’s electricity. In the middle of it all was Macavity, his oldest brother’s massive form looming over the small black cat he had pinned to the ground.

“You’re a strong one,” Macavity crooned, his face barely a whisker from Misto’s. “You should join me, I could use a cat of your talents.” 

Despite the paralysing fear gripping him, Tugger felt a surge of pride to see his mate spit in Macavity’s face, squirming to free himself from the larger cat’s grip. His paws were sparking, but the electricity, although strong enough to down the rats, just seemed to be getting absorbed by Macavity’s thick fur. The Mystery Cat sneered, and slowly and deliberately leant down on Misto’s throat. The little cat’s body jolted, scrabbling at Macavity’s leg, but he couldn’t free himself. A different type of fear flooded through Tugger.

“Get your paws off of him!” 

His voice came out more as a terrified shriek than a command. Trying to ignore the tremble of his legs, Tugger jumped into action. He dashed forward and threw himself at his brother, but was blasted back by a burst of magic. He immediately staggered to his feet, chest heaving, and tried again, but the result was the same.

“Oh ho, Tugsie! Long time no see! Is this how you greet your big brother after all this time?” Macavity called, feigning offence. 

“Don’t call me that!” Tugger snarled as he flung himself at the ginger cat again, but Macavity merely swatted him aside like a fly. 

“Determined, aren’t you? What happened? You don’t normally have the guts to face me!” he jeered. Misto choked under his captor’s grip, and Tugger yowled in fright. There was a horribly tense moment. Macavity stared, his twisted gaze flitting between the two cats, before a horrible smile snaked across his face. 

“Ah, I see,” he said quietly. “This one is yours, isn’t he? Do you love him, Tugsie? Is he your _mate_? Macavity spat out the last word like it was something that personally offended him, like it was something disgusting. “Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?”

“Let him go, Mac,” Tugger pleaded, “he hasn’t done anything to you!”

But Macavity’s eyes gleamed with malice, and he pressed down harder on Mistoffelees, causing the little tux to whine. 

“This is how you got father back, isn’t it?” he said softly, gazing at the trapped cat beneath him.

“I asked him to!” Tugger yelled in desperation. “I asked him to do it, Mac, it’s my fault, not his, please!” His voice cracked pathetically. Misto couldn’t breathe, he had to _do_ something!

Macavity regarded him for a moment, a flicker of amusement on his features. 

“You really have always been weak, haven’t you, Tugsie?” 

Macavity’s face hardened. Straightening his back, he lifted his paw from Misto’s throat. The smaller cat scrambled to his feet, but before he could get away, Macavity waved the paw, creating some sort of red dust from mid air. With a nasty cackle, he blew it straight into Misto’s face, turned tail, and bolted. The effect was instantaneous. Mistoffelees stilled, no longer struggling to run away. His whole body went rigid, and then he toppled over with a sob. 

“MISTO!” Tugger screamed. He rushed to his mate. Mistoffelees’ breathing was laboured, the white fur of his face and chest clumped with drying blood. His body trembled, and felt cold to the touch when Tugger took him in his arms. 

“Misto, baby, talk to me,” he whined, holding his mate’s face in his paws. He tried to wipe away some of the blood, but his own paws were coated with it and he only made it worse. 

Misto’s eyes slowly flickered open, and he squinted up at him.

“Tugger?” he asked, his voice scratchy and strained.

“It’s me, I’m here,” Tugger replied, nuzzling his cheek gently.

“No offence, Tugs,” Misto groaned, “but your brother has serious issues.”

Tugger huffed a weak laugh despite everything, hugging his mate to his chest. The little cat was shaking quite badly, but he managed to flash his trademark cheeky grin.

“Tugger! Mistoffelees!” Tugger tore his eyes away from his mate to see Munkustrap skid around the corner, scratched and bloody, but otherwise seemingly unharmed. “Thank the Everlasting Cat!”

“Hey, Munk!” Tugger called. Misto’s gaze jumped to the approaching Jellicle Protector, and he tried to sit up. Almost immediately he began to cough, but cough was a weak word - hacking up a lung was more accurate. Tugger yelled in alarm as Misto twisted in his arms and fell to the ground, clutching his throat. Munkustrap stared for a moment, frozen mid-step, before turning and sprinting back to the yard, yelling for Jenny and Jelly. Tugger hauled Misto back into his grip, which was extremely difficult, as his body was convulsing uncontrollably. Tugger could feel his own arms shaking as his eyes burned with tears. _Make it stop, please just make it stop!_ He felt helpless, powerless to watch as his mate whimpered and shuddered. It was all he could do to keep it together until Munk reappeared with Jenny and Jelly.

Munk had to pull him away from Misto to let the two older queens work. Tugger knew they were there to help, but he couldn’t make himself let go. He clung to his mate desperately, and yowled brokenly when they were forced apart. He struggled against Munk’s arms, but his brother held on tight. He was causing a scene, being unreasonable, he knew it, but he didn’t care. Mistoffelees was in pain, his mate _needed_ him, he had to be there! It wasn’t until his magical cat stilled and quieted under Jenny’s paws that Tugger stopped fighting, and instead went limp. The sudden lack of resistance sent both himself and Munk tumbling to the ground, panting. Munkustrap was immediately back up, watching Tugger warily, but the fight had left him. He remained sprawled in the dirt, eyes fixed on the two queens tending his mate, and whined pitifully. 

After a few more agonising minutes, Jellylorum stood upright, and headed towards them. 

“He needs to be moved,” she said “somewhere more comfortable and quiet, to Jenny’s den, maybe, or-”

“Mine,” Tugger said, scrambling to his paws. 

“Tugs…” Munkustrap began hesitantly, “maybe that’s not the best idea.”

“Honey,” Jellylorum said in a far more gentle tone than she usually took with him, “he’s going to need time to try and heal, and a lot of care. It could be very stressful for you.”

Tugger shook his head. He appreciated that he wasn’t known for being calm and soothing, but this was different.

“I can take it,” he insisted. “He’s _my_ mate, take him to _my_ den.” 

Their den. Misto’s favourite possessions had found their way in during the past week, including a soft red velvet pillow, a sparkly glass sphere Tugger thought was called a snowglobe, and some large fluffy blankets. They had appeared subtly and gradually, and Tugger hadn’t seen Misto actually carry any of them. He suspected they had been summoned by magic. 

Mistoffelees knew that Tugger was very particular about his den, and he was absolutely right. Tugger was a creature of comfort and class, and his den proudly reflected that. He would never have thought he would ever want to share it, but now thinking about it without Misto in it, it seemed sad and empty. He wanted his mate there. Even if his things did not match the aesthetic at all, they belonged there now. After all, a cat always needed more fluffy blankets, and especially if they carried the scent of his lovely mate! Maybe Tugger could move the rest of his things in, there was more than enough space. He appreciated Misto’s low-key approach, but the Rum Tum Tugger always went all in or not at all. He would make sure Misto knew that he wanted it to be _their_ den.

“Please, Jelly,” he implored, “he’ll be more comfortable there, I know it.”

Jellylorum and Munkustrap shared a loaded look.

“Alright,” she conceded with good grace, “as long as you know that Jenny and I will need to be in and out fairly frequently, and it’s not going to be pretty. I’ll also need you to tell me what happened, in as much detail as you can.”

He appreciated her honesty. Nodding firmly, he stepped forward to pick up his mate. Misto could be sleeping peacefully, but for the occasional twitch and slight rattle in his breathing. Tugger gathered him up in his arms, he was so _small_ , and headed back towards the main yard. He stumbled slightly, and Munk jumped forward, but he growled at him to stay back. He heard the flurry of other cats around him, but he paid them little mind. He spoke as he walked, filling them in on what had happened. Keeping his eyes exclusively on Misto, Tugger made his way back from memory alone, only looking up to carefully slot them through the hole in the overturned wardrobe that was the entrance to their den. 

He laid Misto down as softly as he could on their massive pile of blankets, cushioning his head with his pillow. With a gentle lick of his ears, Tugger stepped back and allowed Jenny and Jelly to enter, armed with their supplies, to continue their work. What the two queens were doing, he had no idea, he just had to trust them. They spoke in hushed voices, saying words he didn’t understand, fussing over the small tom between them.

A loud crash came from outside, followed by yells. Tugger jumped to his feet and ran to the entrance, ready to protect, but it wasn’t what he thought. A large number of the Jellicles had congregated in the yard below their den, many of them looking worse for wear, but none of them seeming seriously hurt. Victoria was standing close, eyes shining with tears, her paws held by Rumpleteazer. Munkustrap must have told them. The crash had come from Skimbleshanks, who had knocked over a pile of broken pots in his hasty attempts to get up the mound the wardrobe sat on. It was taking the combined strength of Munkustrap, Alonzo and Plato to hold him back, as the ginger tabby fought tooth and nail to continue his attempts.

“Skimble! You need to calm down!” Munkustrap bellowed, pulling with all his might.

“THAT’S _MY SON_ UP THERE!” Skimbleshanks roared back, struggling harder, almost dragging Plato to the ground. He was in a wild state, his ears were flat against his head. His fur stood on end but was mostly clean - he must just have gotten back from the railway towards the end of the fight. His eyes swerved up and caught sight of Tugger appearing from the wardrobe. “YOU!” he screeched with such ferocity that Tugger took a step back in alarm. “WHERE IS MY SON? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?”

“Macavity attacked him.” Tugger said quietly, bowing his head. “I’m sorry, I- I couldn’t stop him.” Victoria let out a strangled sob at his words; Skimble fell to the floor with a howl, tears streaming down his face. It was too much. Victoria stepped over to Tugger and buried her face in his mane. He hugged her tightly, trying to hold back his own grief. He looked to Munkustrap, he didn’t know what to do. Mercifully, his brother got the message, and came to his rescue.

“Everyone, please listen.” The junkyard fell silent. “I know today has been terrifying, but please, don’t panic. The threat has now gone - Macavity was behind it.” A few whines of fear greeted these words, but Munkustrap held up a paw for quiet. “Mistoffelees has been gravely injured.” Louder cries sprung up at these words, and Munkustrap had to shout to be heard. “I understand it’s distressing, but he’s with Jenny and Jelly now! If anyone else is hurt, please step forward after this. If you think you can wait, I’m sorry, but please do. I will give you updates as I get them. Until then, please, try to go about your day, get some rest, maybe help clear the yard if you’re up to it, but give the family some space.” 

The Jellicles looked worried, but thankfully heeded Munukstrap’s request. Tugger noticed that most of them were sporting minor injuries: Bombalurina’s face was scratched, and Coricopat’s ear looked torn and painful, amongst others. He was grateful to them for not kicking up a fuss; they were good cats, every last one of them. Victoria slunk over to comfort Skimble, who had not managed to stand back up yet, as Munk approached him.

“Tugs, I have to see to everyone, make sure they’re alright, start to get the junkyard cleared. Will you be okay?”

“I… Yeah, I’ll be fine. Sorry. Thank you for… everything.” For sorting all this, for holding me back, for getting help… There were many things he owed thanks and apologies for, that he had no idea how to put into words, but Munk seemed to understand. He nuzzled his younger brother comfortingly before darting off after the rest of the tribe. Tugger dropped down by Tori and Skimble. None of them spoke, but lay together in a comforting silence, waiting for news from the den.

It was, in all, one of the worst days of Tugger’s life, right up there with the day his mother left and the day Macavity was banished. He rested his head on his paws in the yard, feeling miserable and sick with worry. He again had to recount to Skimbe and Victoria what had happened between Mistoffelees and Macavity, only feeling more terrible that he hadn’t been able to do really anything. He glanced up at the den. It must have been hours since Jenny and Jelly started, but he hadn’t seen even a whisker of them. 

‘Try and heal’, Jelly had said, ‘ _try_ ’. What did that mean? She and Jenny had never failed to cure a cat. The thought that he wouldn’t get Misto back was too awful to even think about. He tried to keep his mind on other things, but it was a pointless effort. At some point, when the sky had turned orange, Munkustrap reappeared, and sat down next to him.

“How are Demeter and Jemima?” Tugger asked, grateful for a distraction. Victoria lifted her head upon hearing the question. 

“They’re both alright,” Munkustrap replied. “A bit shaken up, but resting well now.”

“That’s good. There’s no change here, you can head back. You should be with your family.”

“You’re my brother, Tugs.”

Tugger didn’t reply, but he was grateful. Munkustrap had a naturally calming presence, and Tugger felt like anxiety was about to start physically eating him alive. Victoria dropped her head onto her paws once more. Skimble hadn’t moved a whisker from where he had fallen, giving no sign he was even aware of their presence. Tugger felt like he should say something, but a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach stopped him. If the Railway Cat hadn’t liked him before, he probably hated him now. 

Honestly, Tugger didn’t blame him. Knowing Macavity would be after Misto, Tugger should not have let his mate out of his sight for even a moment. Careless. He should’ve been faster, stronger, he should have done _something_ rather than just watch uselessly. Instead he had just… let Macavity do exactly what he wanted. Weak. Pathetic. He shook his head and mane agitatedly, as if to dislodge the poisonous thoughts taking root in his mind. Strong, he had to be strong right now, strong for his mate. Misto was tough, way more so than Tugger, he would be alright, he had to be.

The first stars were just starting to twinkle when Jenny appeared from the wardrobe. Her normally jolly face looked drawn and haggard, and her posture drooped with exhaustion. She sat in front of their little group and announced:

“He’s stable.”

Tugger could have kissed her.

“He’s asleep now, and seems at peace, but we have no idea what that red powder was or what its effects are. We’ll need to keep a very close eye on him over the next few days.”

It was the best they could hope for, really. Nodding numbly, Tugger climbed back up to the den, curled up by his mate, and waited.

***

To their joy, Misto awoke the next day, but he was clearly exhausted. He had remained awake for long enough to argue that he was perfectly fine, to preen under the praise and attention, and to sass Tugger about his ungroomed mane before dropping off again. But the effects of the powder quickly became clear. Moving his body too much started to cause the little tux great pain, even the trip down to the yard and back up to their den became too much for him after a few days. He slept a lot (which, admittedly, was normal), but it didn’t seem to grant him any rest, and he was often more tired when he woke up. His appetite vanished, Tugger had to beg and bribe him to eat even just once a day. 

He could still use his magic, however, although it drained him faster than usual, and he took delight in pelting Tugger with glitter. It was one of the few times they were able to forget about everything for a moment, laughing wildly as Tugger dived and rolled around the den trying to avoid glitter bombs. But each day seemed to sap a little more of Misto’s strength, and although he tried to hide it, Tugger knew he wasn’t getting better. Skimble, Tori and Munk knew it too, each of them had been in almost every day. They hadn’t been talking much, save when Misto was awake, but their presence offered a little comfort. Jenny and Jelly were doing everything they could, but nothing was working.

It was Macavity, they all knew it. Was this his sick idea of a joke? To force Tugger to watch, helpless, as his mate faded away in front of him? It was a cruelty Tugger wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, not even on Macavity… although he doubted his brother had enough of a heart left to feel something like this. What had Tugger done to deserve this? Had he hurt or offended Macavity in some way back then? Was it his fault Macavity had been banished? He had asked himself that many times over the years, racking his every memory without result, but if it was true, and it was _his_ fault that Misto was in this condition… 

His emotions suddenly threatened to bubble over. He carefully extracted himself from Misto’s blanket pile and headed for the door. Victoria raised and tilted her head from where she was lying nearby, but he gestured for her to stay. He slunk out of the den and ran hard, hidden by the night, to an area of the junkyard where no one visited. 

Grief and desperation tore at his insides. He slashed his claws at an old chair, and felt a tiny sprig of relief when it cracked apart and toppled to the ground. He ran and smashed into a pile of junk, sending broken bits flying, yowling at the moon. It felt good to break things, to scream into the void. So he did. He lost track of time as he hurled things and ripped them, ignoring the tears flowing freely down his face. His paws lost their footing on a loose can and he fell, landing with a dull thump on the garbage-strewn ground. Getting up suddenly seemed like an impossibility, so he just lay there, shaking and sobbing quietly.

A paw landed on his shoulder.

“Come on, Tugs, up we get.” Munkustrap. Of course.

“Go away,” he groaned. He didn’t want to be seen like this. He should just be left alone to stew in his guilt and misery.

“No,” Munkustrap replied simply.

“Please?”

“No.”

Of course Munk picked now to be stubborn. It probably wasn’t worth fighting, his brother could be relentless when he wanted.

With a groan, Tugger dragged himself up off the ground into a sitting position, and met Munk’s eyes. There were flashes of pity and concern in his blue eyes, and Tugger wanted none of it.

“How did you find me?”

“Victoria came to me, she said you’d gone off and you didn’t look good. You weren’t that hard to find, to be honest, you were rather loud.”

Did she now? He thought he had been clear that he wanted to be alone.

“Don’t be angry with her,” Munk said, as if reading his mind, “she was only trying to help. She’s worried about you, we all are.”

For some reason, that hit a nerve.

“ _I’m_ fine,” Tugger snarled, hackles rising along with his temper. “If you want to worry about someone, Munk, worry about Misto! He’s not doing so great, in case you haven’t noticed!”

“Of course I’m worried about him, Tugger,” Munkustrap replied sharply. “I’m terrified for him! But I’m concerned about you, too! I appreciate that you want to put on a strong face for Mistoffelees, but you’re bottling everything up and trying to act like you’re fine when it’s clear you’re not!”

The anger drained swiftly from him, leaving a hollow sort of feeling behind it. He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at Munk, but everything hurt so badly right now it was hard to keep his emotions in check.

“I’m scared, Munk,” he whispered. “I’m scared that he’s not getting better and I’m scared that it’s my fault. Mac was trying to collect him but when he realised he was my mate that was when he threw that powder! I think… I think Misto’s _dying_ and I have no idea at all how to even begin to deal with that!” His voice grew higher as he spoke, and then broke as he admitted his fears.

Munkustrap seized him and pulled him into a fierce hug. The two brothers remained like that for a long time, until Tugger’s breathing evened out, and he came to terms with what he truly had been trying not to think about.

“He’s not going to die, Tugs,” Munk said when they finally let each other go.

“How do you know?” Tugger asked, hating how small and broken his voice sounded.

“Because you’re not going to let him. Because _we_ aren’t going to let him. None of us are giving up, we’ll find some way to heal him, no matter what, you understand? I know how much you want to be strong for him, I do, but it’s okay for you to need to vent, too. If it gets too much again, I want you to come to me, okay?” he said firmly. He paused for a moment, looking Tugger up and down, before he added: “and it doesn’t make you weak, or pathetic. What happened with Macavity, _everything_ that’s happened with Macavity, none of it was your fault, okay?” 

Misto had said that too. His magical cat always struggled to stop his paws from sparking with anger when Tugger spoke of how Macavity had treated him, he suddenly remembered, a small, fond smile sliding onto his face.

“Macavity’s issues are his own,” Munkustrap continued, starting to gain momentum, “and he’s taking them out on you because he knows that more than anyone, you’ll feel guilty even though you shouldn’t, and pushing that blame on others makes him feel better about being a monster! You’re a good cat, Tugs, an excellent brother and Jellicle, and you will be a wonderful mate to Mistoffelees for many years to come, alright?” He finished, breathing heavily, eyes boring into his younger brother. 

“Alright, Munk! Everlasting, keep your fur on!” Tugger made a valiant stab at his usual devil-may-care attitude, but he smiled genuinely, so his brother knew he appreciated it. Munk was the best.

“Just talk to me, Tugger, once in a while, so I know you’re alright,” Munk said with a humouring expression.

“If you insist, oh dearest brother of mine, mightiest Jellicle Protector!”

Munkustrap rolled his eyes, but grinned as he stood up, pulling Tugger with him. The two cats walked back to the main yard together, sharing a comfortable silence. Munk bid him good night as he clambered back up to his wardrobe. 

Tugger entered their den to see glittering lights dancing around the cosy nook. He paused at the entrance, enraptured by their beauty, and that of the cat creating them. Tugger’s gut, his every instinct, had always told him that Misto’s magic was not to be feared. Where Macavity’s magic was dark and dangerous and used to cause hurt, Misto’s was bright and full of life, much like the tux himself. Tugger could watch him dance and practise for hours to perfect his tricks, and indeed he had done so in the past, secretly, before they became mates, before the ball. All of a sudden, the lights sputtered and died, leaving the den in darkness, and he heard a small, weary gasp. The magical cat responsible sighed tiredly, and lay down on his pillow. 

Misto’s magic was growing weaker, Tugger thought in alarm. Two days ago he had had no problem zapping Tugger when he jokingly complained that Misto was hogging the blankets, and those lights demanded less power than electricity. He slipped quietly inside and made his way over to him, placing a kiss on his sleepy mate’s paws. Misto purred faintly at the attention, but didn’t have the energy for much more. Laying down beside him, Tugger wrapped his arms around the magical cat, hugging him tightly. A soft whine broke the silence as Misto shifted slightly. The sound squeezed his heart painfully. He nuzzled the small cat gently, wishing he could do something, anything, to soothe him. 

A white-hot rage suddenly rose up and burned within him. Despite everything he had done, Tugger had never been truly angry with Macavity. He had felt fear, regret, guilt, and even a stab of pity when he remembered what his big brother had once been, but that was all gone now. He was furious, he wanted to hurt Macavity, make him feel, if he could, some degree of what Tugger felt, make him pay for what he had done to Misto. Whatever grievance Tugger or the Jellicles had given the Mystery Cat, it had nothing to do with his mate. He could no longer let guilt or his fear of Macavity cripple him. Misto and Munk didn’t think he was to blame, and their opinions meant everything to him.

Tugger slept badly, his anger and need to act keeping him too agitated to properly rest. He awoke after a few restless hours, his stomach caving in with hunger. He extracted himself from the blankets, made sure Misto was comfortable (as much as he could be at least), and made his way down to the yard. The sun was just beginning to peek over the tallest mounds of the junkyard, bathing the clearing in a dull grey light. What to eat? With recent events he had rather lost his taste for rodents, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He quickly headed to the nearby copse, he didn’t want to stray too far in case Misto needed him. He was in luck. Not long after he arrived, a fat pigeon landed within pouncing distance, pecking at the ground. Tugger made quick work of it and set off back home. 

Upon re-entering the yard, he found himself accosted by Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, who grabbed him and pulled him off to Munkustrap’s den. Inside, Jemima immediately jumped up to nuzzle him and he gave her a brief hug as he looked around the assembled circle of cats in confusion. 

“What’s going on?”

“We’re having a meeting,” Munkustrap said, “about what we should do now.” 

“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?” 

“Is it?” Munkustrap sounded concerned.

“Yes,” Tugger said simply. “I’m going after Macavity.” 

He had thought it over last night. Misto was getting weaker by the day. There was no way of knowing what the red powder was, they had not found any residue upon searching the scene. They had studied the bodies of the mutant rats for clues, but had come up with nothing. Jenny and Jelly had tried everything they knew to no result. 

A moment of silence followed this declaration, before several cats burst out into loud protests.

“Well, what would you all suggest?!” Tugger roared over them. “Jenny and Jelly have tried, but there’s nothing they can do, and Misto is running out of time!”

“Tugger,” Demeter cried, “don’t you think that’s exactly what Macavity wants?”

“So what if it is?” he replied childishly. “It’s not like we can keep going like this!”

He stood up to leave. He had known they wouldn’t like it, but they didn’t understand. It was oh so easy to sit and talk when it wasn’t any of their mates who were suffering. Tugger knew that Macavity was the only one who could fix this now, as much as he hated everything about that. Someone had to find his brother and make him undo what he had done, by any means necessary. It should be him. As much as the thought terrified him, Tugger would do anything to save Mistoffelees. 

\---------------------------------------------------

“Tugger, we have to think about this!”

The maine coon whirled around, facing his older brother with flames in his eyes. 

“Think about this? My mate is _dying_ , and you want me to _think about this_?” Victoria let out a small sob, and Tugger immediately flinched, going to the queen’s side and hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry, Tori.” 

Munkustrap stepped forward, putting a paw on Tugger’s arm. 

“I know you’re scared, Tugs. Everlasting, I’m absolutely terrified. But we can’t have you running into something headfirst.”

“I just want him to be okay, and I don’t know how to do that,” Tugger whispered, and Munkustrap leaned forward, nuzzling him comfortingly. 

“So let’s come up with a plan, Tugs. We have to figure something out,” the silver tabby said. “Whether it’s confronting Macavity or going about it in a quieter way, we’re going to do this together.”

Victoria leaned into Tugger, her eyes red. 

“Maybe we try asking around? See if any other cats who’ve crossed Macavity have had this kind of illness?” Her voice was shaking, but her eyes were determined. 

“Jerrie and I can ask around,” Rumpleteazer offered softly from her spot between her older sisters. Jerrie nodded in agreement, and Tugger gave them both a thankful look. 

“If you do, please just be careful,” Munkustrap pleaded, and the twins nodded. 

Skimbleshanks sighed. 

“I can visit Bustopher. He might have heard something around the clubs, and I can see what I find around the railway stations I visit.” 

Tugger’s eyes filled with tears at the offers from the other Jellicles, and Victoria hugged him tighter. Munkustrap wrapped an arm around his younger brother. 

“Go see Misto, Tugs. We’ve got this here. I’ll tell you everything you miss later,” he said gently, and the maine coon nodded. He released Victoria and left Munkustrap’s den, walking towards his own.

A quiet, weak whisper was the first thing Tugger heard when he entered the den. 

“Tugs?”

Tugger smiled, trying to ignore his heartbreak at his mate’s state. 

“Hey, love.” Mistoffelees was lying in their bed, curled up with blankets surrounding him. His eyes brightened slightly when Tugger approached him, and he reached out. “Don’t stress yourself, Misto!”

“I’m okay, Tugs. I promise,” the Magical Cat replied stubbornly, making his mate laugh as he laid down beside him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. Mistoffelees immediately tucked himself beneath Tugger’s soft mane, purring happily as Tugger kissed his forehead. 

“We’re going to make you better, Misto. I promise,” he said firmly. 

Mistoffelees looked up at him with loving eyes. 

“I know you will, Tugs. I love you.”

Tugger nuzzled him, trying to hold back his tears. 

“I love you too, Misto. So much.”

~~~

When Munkustrap entered their den a few hours later, he immediately paused and smiled. Tugger was wrapped completely around Mistoffelees, the smaller tom curled close to his chest, almost hidden beneath Tugger’s larger form. Having made eye contact with Tugger, Munkustrap stepped back, turning to leave the den, but he was stopped by Mistoffelees’ voice. 

“Thank you, Munkustrap,” he said. 

“You’re my family too, Misto,” Munkustrap said softly. “I’m going to do whatever I can to help you.” Mistoffelees gave him a small smile before nuzzling back into Tugger’s fur, his eyes slipping closed. 

\---------------------------------------------------

The exchange warmed Tugger’s heart. He nodded at his brother, but waited until Misto was fully asleep again before following him out to the yard. Munkustrap must have come up with a plan, or at least have gotten some new information. He found Jerrie and Teazer outside, ready to make a report. Those two worked fast, and he appreciated their courage. They had been taken in by Macavity as kits and set to work for him, but had broken away and sought sanctuary with the Jellicles. Despite still being very frightened of their old boss, it hadn’t stopped them from trying to help.

They hadn’t found out about any sicknesses, but they had learned that one of Macavity’s top henchcats would be passing by Victoria Grove the next day. It was decided that Tugger and Munkustrap would be the ones to go intercept them. Jerrie and Teazer had argued that they were fine to go too, but to everyone’s relief, Munk had put his foot down.

The next morning, Tugger was conflicted. As much as he wanted to go and interrogate the henchcat, he had a very bad feeling about leaving Misto. The Magical Cat’s condition had worsened during the night: he now wheezed with every intake of breath, his every muscle painfully tense. He tossed and turned in Tugger’s arms, shivering despite them being wrapped in every single blanket they had. Tugger had been unable to settle him, and he had only calmed enough to lie still when the first rays of dawn appeared. Tugger would be leaving him with Victoria, and although he trusted her completely, it still felt like a bad omen. 

When it came time to leave he nuzzled his mate, trying to wake him, but Misto didn’t stir. His body was tense, still unable to relax in his sleep, his throat rattling. Tugger whined and bumped him slightly harder. _Come on, Misto, please wake up, please._ On Tugger’s fourth attempt to rouse him, his mate winced and slowly forced his eyes open half-way, gazing blankly at Tugger, who felt his chest contract.

“I have to step out now, love,” he said quickly, “to see a cat who might know how to fix this. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” Misto’s brow furrowed, and Tugger wasn’t sure he had grasped what he said at all. He hugged him tight, and even by the time he pulled away, Misto’s eyes had closed once more. Tugger’s own eyes pricked with tears, but he rubbed them away roughly, pushing his fear down. He had to be strong now.

He headed down to the yard to meet Munkustrap, and the two brothers set off. Munk began to tell him about the plan, how he thought they should find a place to hide from where they could watch the street, but Tugger wasn’t really listening. The thought vaguely occurred to him that if he had to fight Macavity he probably wouldn’t win, but that that didn’t matter, he still had to try. Hopefully Munk would help him. As much as it pained him to drag others into his mess, he couldn’t risk his mate’s life just because of that.

When they arrived at Victoria Grove, the street was empty. The fancy human houses loomed overhead, casting long and formidable shadows in the afternoon sun. Munkustrap and Tugger climbed a tree on the side of the road, from which they would be able to see anything that went on below. They didn’t have long to wait. 

Before long, a large brown cat appeared on the street corner. Tugger didn’t need to be told that this was the henchcat, he had a highly discomforting aura about him, not unfamiliar to Macavity’s. The cat began to make his way down the street. As he got closer, Tugger could make out scars of various sizes criss-crossing his back and muzzle. His coat was dirty and unkempt, and patches of fur had been visibly ripped out. He reminded Tugger of Growltiger, the villain from the old pirate stories he’d heard as a kitten. All in all, this was not a cat you wanted to meet down a dark alley.

Munk gestured at him to remain hidden in the tree as he slunk backwards. He dropped noiselessly onto the wall running along the street, and walked forward into view. Tugger remained, frozen where he sat, watching intently as the henchcat clocked his brother. The cat paused for a moment, but then continued warily, not taking his eyes off of the large silver tabby. He stopped as they grew level, looking up the wall.

“Jellicle,” he hissed.

“Henchcat,” Munk replied, leaping off of the wall so they were both on the pavement. The henchcat looked him up and down, his expression giving nothing away. Although the two were about the same size and build, this was a cat Tugger did not want Munk to fight.

“‘E said you lot would be about,” the henchcat rumbled with a smirk.

“Did he now,” Munk said flatly. The two cats began to circle one another, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“Ar, ‘e did,” he replied. “Didn’t think it be you though, thought it be a maine coon with a big mane.” Tugger held his breath, listening hard. “‘Ad instructions, we did, what to say if we saw ‘im.”

“And what was that?” Munk asked, voice low, eyes narrow.

“Well,” the henchcat said, sitting back with a twisted smile, “said to tell ‘im ‘is little magician would be dead by the new moon.”

Munkustrap gasped. The Jellicle Ball took place under the full moon, the new moon was barely days away! The henchat exploded with laughter and Tugger saw red. He leapt from the tree with a wild shriek and landed on top of the surprised henchcat, sending them both rolling down the street. Tugger snarled and smashed his opponent into the ground. The enemy cat’s shock didn’t last long, and he hissed, throwing Tugger off of him. Tugger jumped to his feet but Munk was faster. The silver tabby pounced, and successfully pinned the henchcat beneath his paws. Tugger staggered forward. His leg was bleeding, but he couldn’t care less, what mattered was killing the henchcat. He raised his claws, ready to attack, but Munk stopped him with a yell.

“No! Not yet! He might know something!”

Tugger growled, but lowered his paw, shaking with rage.

“Well?” he spat at the brown cat, who choked, blood dribbling down his chin

“Alright!” he wheezed. “You win! Lemme up and I’ll tell ya what I know!”

Munk stepped back slowly, eyes never leaving his target. The ragged tom sat up, rubbing his paw over his neck. Tugger hissed at him, this was taking too long! The henchcat glared, but started to talk in a gravelly voice.

“Macavity said to tell the maine coon that the magician would die by the new moon. ‘E also said if the Jellicles give ‘im the magic cat before that ‘e’d not only fix ‘im up, but also leave the junkyard be for good.”

“And what does he want with Misto?” Tugger asked through gritted teeth.

“‘Ow should I know? I only says what I’m told to!”

“And where would we find Macavity, should we choose to accept?” Munkustrap asked. 

_WHAT!?_

Tugger whirled to face his brother, but Munk held up a paw to silence him. The henchcat began rambling about something, but Tugger’s ears were ringing too loudly to hear him. What was Munkustrap doing? He couldn’t trade Misto like that! He wouldn’t!

“And if you two maniacs are done, I’ll be on me way now.” 

The henchcat turned and bounded down the street.

“Munk,” Tugger said once the frayed brown tail had disappeared around the corner, “if you think… if you think for even _one moment_ about throwing Misto… handing over _my mate_ over to him, I’ll-I’ll…” He cut off, anger was shaking his voice so much he was barely able to form words.

“Everlasting Cat, Tugs,” Munk hissed, “ _of course I wouldn’t_.”

“But you said-”

“Yes!” Munk cried in exasperation. “Yes, I made it seem like we’d think about it, we needed to know where we could find Macavity, and now we do! Don’t you _dare_ think that I’d ever hand over a member of our family to him! Use your brain!”

Tugger felt extremely stupid, but also extremely relieved.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his paws.

“That’s quite alright,” Munk said, still bristling slightly at the accusation.

"What do we do now?" Tugger asked. "Find Macavity?"

"We go home. We need to tell the others what we found out, and come up with a plan."

"Munk, we don't have _time_ to go sit and talk. Misto doesn't have time, he…" Tugger broke off, it was too horrible to even say out loud. Days. They barely had two or three _days_...

"Tugs, I promise you, we will fix Mistoffelees. Do you think I'm just going to let you lose him? Not a chance. It sounds like there is a way to heal him."

"Unless Macavity lied." He didn't want to believe that.

"I don't think so," Munkustrap said thoughtfully, starting to lead him away, "it sounds like he really wants to add him to his henchcats."

"Misto would never go for that," Tugger said stubbornly. Unless his mate thought it was the only way to protect the tribe. To protect him.

"I suppose Macavity is banking on us to choose for him. Mistoffelees' health and the tribe's safety versus, well, the current situation."

"I'll leave the Jellicles before I give Misto over to him, Munk, and I'm deadly serious right now."

Munkustrap gave him a sad look.

"I know you are. But we're not going to let it come to that."

"It's only a few days to the new moon," Tugger whispered miserably as they entered the junkyard, his voice wobbly. Not waiting for a reply, he jumped up the pile of broken items to his den. 

Victoria looked up when he entered, and moved aside so he could sit with Mistoffelees. The black cat was curled up on top of his blankets. Tugger nuzzled him gently as he sat down, placing a few soft licks over his ears. Munkustrap reappeared with Jenny, Jelly, Alonzo, Bombalurina and Demeter. It seemed Skimbleshanks was not back from the railway yet, or seeing Bustopher, or wherever he was. It was a rather tight fit when Jerrie and Teazer had also squeezed in, but the Jellicle tribe representatives didn’t utter a word of complaint.

Munkustrap began to speak. Tugger let him tell the tale, continuing to gently groom the soft fur of his mate’s head in silence. He felt too numb to recall properly what had happened anyway. Victoria wailed when Munkustrap told them about the new moon, and she wasn’t alone in her despair. Bomba beside her nuzzled her to comfort them both as the other cats exchanged expressions of horror. Tugger did not meet any of their gazes, he didn’t think he could handle it.

“... and that’s what happened,” Munkustrap concluded. “Now we have to think of a plan.” No one seemed to have an answer for that. Like Tugger, they seemed lost.

"You should let me go to him." 

Tugger jumped. Misto was awake. Slowly and with great effort, the Magical Cat pushed himself up. Leaning heavily on Tugger, he looked blearily around the den. Even that small movement was a lot for him, and he rested his head back against Tugger's chest. Tugger wrapped his arms around his mate and sighed. He had expected Misto to say something like this.

"No one is going to agree with that, kit," Jenny said gently.

“What other choice is there?” he persisted. “If you say no he might unleash another rat storm, or something worse, and someone could get hurt. If I go, then he’ll leave the Jellicles in peace.”

“Macavity is a liar,” Demeter said fiercely, “what if he can’t even heal you at all? I know him, Misto, he’s hell-bent on destroying the Jellicles. Even if you give yourself up, he’ll still come after us, he just wants you out of the way!”

“He could’ve killed me if he wanted to, Dems. When he attacked I was at full power and I couldn’t even touch him. My magic… it’s nothing compared to his. Even if it was, I don’t have much left anyway…” He paused, pinning his ears back, “I’m already dying.” Victoria let out a small cry, her eyes filled with tears, and Tugger flinched violently, but Mistoffelees pushed on. “It’s true, we all know it! If I’m not going to make it anyway, I’d rather fall protecting my family than wasting away in bed.” He shuddered and fell silent, exhausted. Tugger hugged him tight, feeling Misto’s erratic heartbeat flutter under his fur.

Once again, the den was filled with a heavy quiet. No one liked it, but no one knew what to say. They were all hoping someone would come up with a better plan, Tugger supposed. They weren’t going to. He knew there was only one way to save his mate.

“No, Misto, you’re not going. I am,” Tugger said quietly. The little tux stiffened in his arms, and tried to turn to face him. Tugger awkwardly but quickly shifted in the cramped space so that he could face his mate while still supporting him. “It’s me he wants, love, he didn’t throw that poison until he learned you were my mate. You wouldn’t in this state if it wasn’t for me.”

“No,” Misto whispered, “I’d just already be dead, because I’d never have joined him. It’s not your fault, Tugs.” 

Tugger whined softly and nuzzled his mate. 

“It’s definitely not your fault, Tugger,” Jenny said with a nod.

“I do agree that Macavity is after Tugger though,” Bombalurina said thoughtfully, “not that it’s your fault!” she added hastily when Misto hissed weakly. Tugger shifted once more so that his mate could fully lean on him again, and Misto purred slightly as he melted into the maine coon’s fluffy mane.

“What I mean is,” Bomba continued carefully, “Tugger’s right. I think Macavity was originally after Misto to get him on his side, but saw an opportunity to destroy Tugger when he realised Misto was his mate. Macavity has always had a weird thing about Tugger.”

“Tugger is like the Jellicles’ heart!” Rumpleteazer piped up. “Without him our morale would be way down, it makes sense!”

“Tugger has always been most forgiving of Macavity, who takes advantage of his good nature,” Munk said with a nod. 

That was the nicest phrasing of ‘naïve, gullible moron’ ever. Nonetheless, it was sweet of them to try to boost him up.

“That’s why I’ve got to stop him!” Tugger interjected. “I’m done making excuses for him. No one, blood or not, hurts my mate, or my family! He thinks I won’t be able to fight him, so I’ll have an advantage there. I’m going after him, and none of you can stop me.” 

“Fine,” Misto said, taking him by surprise. The Magical Cat tilted his head up to look into Tugger’s face, “but you’re taking me with you.”

“No! It’s too dangerous for you!” 

Misto’s eyes flashed.

“Because it’s so safe for you? You’re not going in there alone!”

“I have to, Misto, _please_!” Tugger felt like crying, he couldn’t protect his mate from Macavity before, and if he failed again he doubted his brother would suddenly be any more merciful. 

“Rum Tum Tugger, you will take me with you or I swear to the Everlasting Cat that I will use the last of my magic to bind you to this wardrobe,” Misto declared angrily; his breath hitched and he gasped, panting for air, but still glared up at his mate. 

“Tugger, none of us are going to let you go alone,” Alonzo said sharply. “None of us stand a chance against Macavity alone, and…” Alonzo looked deeply uncomfortable as he continued, “maybe Misto should come. Macavity might let his guard down a little if he thinks we’re handing him over. He might not even come out if Misto isn’t there.”

“Oh, so the whole tribe’s coming?” Tugger hissed. “That won’t look suspicious at all!” 

“Not the whole tribe, Tugs,” Munk said slowly, and Tugger could almost hear his brain whirring at top speed, coming up with ideas. “Just enough so that Mistoffelees will be covered, but so will the tribe.”

Tugger didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He didn’t want to lead his family into danger, and he wanted to carry Misto right into the middle of it like some sort of sick offering even less. But… (and he cursed the small bud of hope taking root in his chest) with help, he might win. It felt selfish, to ask them to fight with him, to put themselves in danger to protect his mate. That said, every cat in the den looked determined, and Tugger suddenly realised that none of them would go because they felt obligated to, they would go because they cared. Because they were _family_. They said good things because they _meant_ them, not just to be nice. Jellicle cats supported each other without question, through thick and thin. It seemed so obvious when he thought about it! The realisation filled him with so much emotion, and he buried his face in Misto’s shoulder.

“Fine,” he said, thankful his thick fur could always hide his flushing. “Thanks, I mean, uh… yeah…” He stumbled to find the right words to express his gratitude, his affection, all the unchecked feelings currently coursing through him.

“We’re family,” Munkustrap said, piecing together Tugger’s mangled attempt at a sentence. “We look after each other, no matter what.” With a quick shake of his fur, he stood to leave and motioned to the others to do the same. “We’ll work out the logistics and leave tomorrow. You two should try and get some rest.” He nodded to Misto, who was all but asleep again, cheek nestled into Tugger’s mane. 

Munk hung back for a moment after the others had left, looking Tugger in the eye.

“We’ll do it, and we’ll do it together,” he said quietly. “You’re not alone, Tugs.” 

With a swish of his tail he exited the den. Tugger laid back, his eyes watery. 

“He’s right, you know,” Misto said suddenly, startling him. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

“Do you think I can beat him?” he asked in a small voice. The words came out raw. No matter how much bravado he showed the Jellicles, he was terrified, and Mistoffelees would see through any attempt to conceal that.

“Yes,” Misto said simply. “I think you’ve always held back from fighting him because some part of you still looks up to and loves your big brother.”

“That’s not who he is anymore though, is it? That Macavity is gone, he has been for a while, I just didn’t want to see it. As a kit, I…I always thought if I could work out what I did wrong the day he got banished, I could fix it and he’d go back to normal, like he was before. It’s so _stupid_.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“It _is_ , Misto. Look what he’s done to you! The Macavity I grew up with didn’t enjoy hurting people, he would never have done anything like this! He was gone long before he was banished, and if I had just accepted it then I could’ve helped Munk and the others fight him off. Maybe we could’ve stopped him sooner, and less people would have gotten hurt!” 

_You wouldn’t have gotten hurt._

“It’s not stupid to miss him, the cat he was before,” Misto replied stubbornly. “You loved him, that doesn’t just go away. Of course you wanted to save him. The fact that you didn’t just accept it shows how good you are.”

“He’s beyond saving, I know that now.”

“Yes, I agree.”

Tugger looked up into his mate’s eyes. Up close, it was plain to see the toll the poison had taken. Misto looked awful. His face was gaunt, his fur had lost all its sparkle and hung limp and lifeless. All the weight had dropped unnaturally quickly from his already small frame, leaving him thin and shivery. His eyes were dull, and it was clear he hadn’t slept properly in ages. It hurt Tugger so bad to see him like this. Every cough, every shudder was like a claw to the face. He had to really concentrate to remember Misto when he was healthy and bright, spinning and leaping, shooting sparks at him and running, before allowing Tugger to catch him, the two of them rolling over and over, breathless with laughter. Tugger wanted his happy, beautiful, magical mate back. 

He _would_ get him back. Macavity was the past, but Mistoffelees was his future. 

“I love you, Misto, so much.” He stroked a paw over his mate’s head and Misto smiled tiredly at him, leaning his face back into Tugger’s chest.

“Love you too, Tugs.”

“I won’t let him take you.”

“Just don’t let him take you either.”

“Nothing could take me away from you, Sparkles. Not Macavity, not even the Everlasting Cat herself. And when this is all over, I expect to be spoiled and pampered to within an inch of my life.”

“Whatever you say, babe,” Misto snorted. He curled in closer to Tugger, wincing as he moved his body. He was pushing himself far too much, this whole evening must have completely drained him. Tugger leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Rest, love,” he murmured. Misto grumbled in protest, but his eyes had been falling shut since the meeting, kept open solely by force of will. He finally allowed them to slip closed, and Tugger marvelled at his mate. Mistoffelees had always been stubborn, but this was something else. He had fought this illness with all his strength from the very first day, he hadn’t given up once, even when his body started to fail him. His magical cat was a force of nature. He was incredible. Tugger was incredibly proud of him for being so strong, so brave. He didn’t know any other cat who could or would put up the fight that Misto had, obstinately refusing to be parted from his mate and his family by something so basic as Tugger’s maniac brother. 

Tugger smiled, and wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller tom, purring deeply. Misto was his rock, he had been practically from the moment he arrived in the junkyard. He was always just reliably, unfailingly, reassuringly _there_. Being around Misto helped heal him from the broken mess his mother Grizabella and then Macavity had left in their wake. He had felt most like himself around the Magical Cat; for the first time, it had felt like everything would be okay again. 

He wondered idly if Misto realised what he had done just by being himself and being his friend. Probably not, he thought. For once, Tugger hadn’t wanted people fussing over him; he hadn’t wanted their pity, their knowing looks and soft voices and determination not to rise when he acted up. Misto had snarked him right back, the only one who hadn’t acted like Tugger was a fragile kitten who might break at any moment. Misto just _got_ him, in a way that no one else did. He teased him, play-fought him, pranked him and pranked with him, listened at the right times, and laughed with him until both their sides ached. 

Tugger began to crave the closeness that he had always rejected when previous flings got a bit too far in. Mistoffelees never fawned over Tugger the way that others did, or begged for his attention. Ironically, it was that that eventually ensured Tugger’s undivided affection for him. He didn’t always agree with him no matter what he said - that grew incredibly tiring (and not to mention slightly creepy). 

It had taken a while for Tugger to understand why he wearied of being worshipped and idolised. In short doses it was enjoyable, but after a while it just got so incredibly boring. There was no challenge, no mental stimulation! What he needed, he had realised, was someone to keep him on his toes, but who could also keep his ego in check. Rather than as a prize, he just wanted to be seen for himself, and Misto always did.That must have been why Old Deuteronomy had said Misto was well-suited to him, he realised; his father had understood him better than Tugger had understood himself.

From the start, nothing had ever been dull with his magical cat. In hindsight, it was inevitable that Tugger would fall in love with him. 

Even now, he was comforting Tugger when it really should be the other way around. Supporting him, boosting him up, never complaining about the horrible pain Tugger knew he was in, trying to make _him_ feel better! Everlasting, he loved this cat more than he could express, it was an honour to be his mate. Macavity couldn’t be beaten by his scared little brother, but maybe, just maybe, he could be defeated by the cat worthy enough to be chosen by Mistoffelees. Repeating that thought in his head like a mantra, he eventually drifted off to sleep.

Tugger awoke the next morning highly uncomfortable, there was something cold and heavy on his chest. He blinked sleepily, his vision coming into focus. Ah, of course, Misto had curled up on top of him the night before. The morning was warm, though, and Tugger was permanently roasting thanks to his thick fur, he shouldn’t be so cold. Everlasting, he was _freezing_. Tugger shifted into a more upright position and surveyed his mate. Misto was incredibly still. Weird, he hadn’t stopped shivering and twitching in days, he… he wasn’t breathing. 

Tugger let out a wild yowl of fear and started shaking his mate. He screamed his name but Misto didn’t stir. Seizing him, Tugger bolted down to the junkyard below, yelling for Jenny, for Jelly, for anyone to help. The Gumbie Cat quickly materialised at his side, a look of shock on her face. Despite every instinct screaming at him not to, Tugger passed his mate over to her and stepped back to let her work. He hovered as close as he could without being in the way, his tail agitatedly flicking back and forth. Munk and Demeter appeared at his side. Jemima gripped his one of his paws and Victoria the other, stopping him from clawing at his own coat. Jellylorum appeared and rushed to help Jenny as other Jellicles, roused by the commotion, began to appear on the scene, keeping to the sidelines. Tugger whined as he felt tears start to fall.

 _It couldn’t be too late, it couldn’t. They were going today, this very day to see Macavity! It wasn’t fair! Come on, Misto, baby, just a few more hours, please! Not now! He had to pull through, he had come so far, they were so close! No, no, NO! Please, Everlasting, just a little more time,_ please. 

Victoria hugged into him, she was crying too. He held onto her like a lifeline for what felt like an age. The junkyard was silent aside from their haggard breathing and the frantic bustling of Jenny and Jelly.

Suddenly, a tiny gasp punctured the air, and, mercifully, Misto was breathing again. It was weak and faint, but he was alive, and Tugger had never heard such a beautiful sound.

“Thank the Everlasting,” Demeter whispered under her breath as Tugger staggered forward to his mate, dropping to the ground in front of him. Misto coughed feebly, and his eyes quivered open. Tugger dropped to the ground with a moan and gathered the small cat into his arms. Tears were still flowing freely down his face as he sat there in the dirt, it all must have looked terribly unsightly. He found he didn’t care. Misto was alive, that was all that mattered. His mate twisted, trying to look round at him.

“Tugs?” He sounded awful, like his voice was physically painful for him to use. “Are we outside? What’s wrong?” He raised a shaking paw towards Tugger’s face. The maine coon grabbed it and pressed it to his lips, hugging his mate tightly, trying to compose himself.

“You weren’t breathing, Misto,” he whispered, trying and failing to keep his voice from breaking. “I thought… I thought I lost you.” The statement caught in his throat and he shook his head, burying his face into his mate’s fur, breathing him in. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Tugs, come on,” Misto rasped, offering him a tiny pained smile.

“I better not,” Tugger mumbled, nuzzling his head. With monumental effort, he pulled himself together and looked into Mistoffelees’ face “I swear, Sparkles, if you give up on me _now_ …”

“I wasn’t planning on it, I-” he broke off with a wince, reaching his quivering paws to massage his throat.

“Don’t push yourself,” Tugger said softly, looking up at the others. Munkustrap had caught his eye. The silver tabby edged away from the sidelines and tentatively made his way over to them. 

“Are… is everything okay?” Munkustrap asked quietly, crouching down to their level . Misto turned his head to reply, but the movement instantly triggered a weak coughing fit. Where before his coughing had been strong and racked his whole body, now it had become frail and breathy, as if Misto simply no longer had the strength in him to support it. He couldn’t fight the sickness any longer. The poison powder had completely ripped through him, and Tugger knew, with ringing clarity, that if they failed to heal him today, the poison would finish him. The maine coon grasped his mate’s shoulders tightly, rubbing his back, murmuring soothing nothings until Misto caught his breath again.

“Today, Munk, we have to go today, as soon as we can. Now, if possible.” Tugger looked up at his brother, and the two shared a heavy look. Both of them understood that they were out of time.

“I agree,” Munkustrap said. “Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer will lead us to Macavity’s lair. Alonzo and I will go with you and Mistoffelees.” Tugger nodded. As much as the thought of having Misto anywhere near Macavity, especially in this state, was loathsome, there was no question of leaving his mate behind now. He would not be parted from his side for even a moment. “Are you alright to travel?” Munk added, looking at Misto. The Magical Cat nodded determinedly, and tried putting some weight on his paws. His legs wobbled precariously for a second, before he tipped over with an upset whine. Tugger immediately launched forward to catch him before he hit the ground.

It was painful to see Mistoffelees, who Tugger had once observed effortlessly pull off 24 consecutive conjuring turns, not even be able to stand on his own. With a little help from Munkustrap, Tugger gently hoisted his mate onto his back, trying in vain not to think about how light he had become. Misto accepted the position with dignity, without the squawk of protest Tugger usually received when he tried to pick him up. He felt the absence of it unexpectedly keenly - his mate was fading, in more ways than just physically. Misto dropped his head into Tugger’s mane with a low groan.

“Stay with me, love, okay?” Tugger turned his head to speak to him. Misto merely whined miserably, and the sound sliced through Tugger like a knife. “I know, baby, I know it hurts, I know everything hurts, but you have to stay awake now, can you do that for me? Only a little bit longer, I promise, just stay awake, okay?” He felt Misto nod into his mane. “Thank you.”

“Ready?” Munk asked as Alonzo bounded over to them, worry etched onto his features. 

“As we’ll ever be,” Tugger replied as the Jellicles came over to say goodbye and wish them luck. He received many hugs and affectionate nuzzles. They were all greatly appreciated, but it felt like an age before they finished, and he was very aware that they were on a time-sensitive mission. Victoria was the last one to step forward.

“Bring him back, Tugger,” she whispered as she nuzzled him, her voice so low that not even Misto would be able to hear her. She fell back before he could reply, sitting up on her haunches to say something to her brother. He averted his ears, looking forward to the entrance to the junkyard. He hoped where they were headed wasn’t too far away; time was of the essence, and every step he took was probably going to cause his mate agony. 

Jerrie and Teazer were waiting to lead them to Macavity’s lair. Although the henchcat had told them the lair was in a warehouse by the docks, no one but the twins knew exactly where it was. Munkustrap had been very firm that they were to lead them there and then return to the junkyard immediately, and nothing more. The two seemed relieved by the plan, they wanted to help, but Macavity was still a figure of great fear for them. It hadn’t been too long ago that they escaped the Mystery Cat themselves, for them to even be willing to lead them to him was testament to their bravery. 

Tugger, Munk and Alonzo made their way out of the junkyard, led by Jerrie and Teazer. Plato was to fill in for Munkustrap while they were gone, and the adult Jellicles would be making more frequent patrols to ensure the safety of the tribe. Tugger wasn’t particularly worried about them, Macavity’s current target was Mistoffelees. They walked in a direction unfamiliar to him. The buildings were large and imposing, and most of them in various levels of disrepair. Tugger had to keep making sure Misto stayed awake; he somehow knew, instinctively, that if he allowed his mate to drop off, he would not wake up again. The streets around them grew dirtier as they walked, and a revolting smell of rot began to fill their noses. Munk and Alonzo were extremely tense, walking in tight formation by each of his sides. 

“It’s that one,” Jerrie said eventually, as they came to a stop before an ugly old abandoned warehouse. It figured that it was the most menacing one on the street. Teazer pointed her paw at a cat-sized crack in the fence which would take them inside.

“Thank you,” Munkustrap said, eyeing it warily. “Get yourselves home now.”

Jerrie and Teazer didn’t need to be told twice. With a brief nuzzle, the two cats set off quickly down the street, tails intertwined. None of them moved until they were both safely out of sight. Munk exhaled when they rounded the corner and turned his attention back to the warehouse. 

“Alonzo, wait by the entrance and keep watch. Let us know if any henchcats show up.”

Alonzo nodded. He looked scared, but the set of his jaw was determined, and he stood tall as he found a nearby spot to hide in.

“Tugs,” Munk said quietly, once Alonzo was out of earshot, “I hope it won’t come to this, but if it does, know that you can beat him. Macavity goes for you emotionally because he knows that physically, you’re stronger than he is. If he can’t get under your skin, he can’t win. We’re all behind you, no matter what.”

Tugger paused, and looked his brother in the eye. This definitely wasn’t the best time, but it might be the only chance he got. 

“I’m sorry, Munk,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry you had to take on the burden of dealing with him by yourself all these years. I should’ve been there, but I wasn’t. It took a long time, But I’m here now, I’m ready to step up.”

“I never begrudged you it, Tugs. You’re my little brother, it’s my job to protect you. I just wish I could've done a better job.”

“You did a great job, Munk. I owe you so much.”

“I don’t think you do, but why don’t we call it even?” 

“Sounds fair, we have a job to do.”

Tugger shot him a tentative smile, which Munk returned. The whole Macavity situation had been putting a strain on their relationship for years. As kits, they had been close, but after losing both their mother and brother things had changed. A gap had grown between them. Munkustrap had shouldered a full-grown cat’s burden and Tugger had done the opposite, acting out and shirking all responsibility. Until recently, that was. Falling in love with Misto had changed things, making him want to be better, more mature and reliable. Hopefully after today, they would be able to work on their relationship, to build it back up to what it had been when they were young.

“Are you ready?” Munkustrap asked him, jolting him back to the present. Misto shuddered on his back. Tugger nodded. Gathering up every scrap of courage he could muster, he crouched to slip through the entrance of the lair, and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was that it was incredibly dark, despite the sun being high in the sky outside. They stood in what appeared to be a large, musty room with a ceiling too high for them to see. There were piles of cardboard boxes of all different shapes and sizes around the walls, and in the centre was a human desk chair with a broken leg, sitting unaccompanied, almost like a throne. All of the windows were boarded up with mouldy cardboard. Misto tensed on his back and yeah, Tugger could feel it too. They were surrounded by a horrible aura, as if atrocities had been committed here, and the very air of the warehouse was holding on to them. Knowing Macavity, that probably wasn’t unlikely.

Tugger cast his gaze around, straining for any hit of movement among the shadows. As his eyes began to adjust to the gloom he thought he saw things, the flash of a claw from on top of a box, the flick of a tail just in the corner of his eye. If the situation had not absolutely demanded he didn’t, Tugger would have fled this place the moment he set a paw in it.

“Well, well,” a disembodied voice drawled, “it would appear I have guests.” 

It came from above. Tugger snapped his head up and Munk tensed beside him, ready to pounce, but before they could move, an orange blur lept from the shadows and landed on top of the chair before them, kneading the saggy cushion with its paws. Macavity lounged in front of them, a lazy smirk on his face.

“Tugsie!” he called out jovially, like they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years, “I must say, I expected you much sooner than this, but you’re here now and that’s all that matters! Oh, and I see you brought my favourite little Munkles too, lovely, simply lovely. Look at us! It’s like a family reunion! If only our dear old dad could see us now, eh? And to think, he would be here too if you hadn’t meddled in my recent plans!” he scolded, as if they were kittens caught causing mischief. His tone was light, but the humour did not reach his eyes, which stared down at them coldly. 

“You gave up the right to call us family, Macavity,” Munkustrap said, his body still tensed as if preparing to pounce. Macavity acted as though he had not heard him, his orange eyes had fixed upon Tugger’s back. A look of greed flashed across his face as he zoned in on Misto, and Tugger felt an ice-cold dollop of fear slip through his body.

“I see you’ve brought a gift,” Macavity breathed, sitting up straight, unable to disguise the hunger in his expression. Munkustrap leaned over to help Misto down from Tugger’s back. The Magical Cat slid from his position with a whimper of pain, before collapsing into Tugger He leaned heavily on the maine coon’s side, no longer able to support any of his own weight. 

“Dear me, that’s in a bit of a state, isn’t it?” Macavity simpered, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I would have thought you’d take better care of your possessions, Tugsie! Although I suppose if they’re not too valuable to begin with, why bother, eh? In any case, you can just dump it there and be on your way, and as I’m a cat of my word, I’ll never bother you or your precious Jellicles ever again.”

A snarl of rage ripped from Tugger’s throat. How _dare_ he! How dare he act like Tugger didn’t care, like Misto was worthless and Tugger would just toss him away like that! Fury sparked through his body as he felt his hackles rise and claws unsheathe. 

“Temper, temper!” Macavity sang. He suddenly waved a paw, and Misto was wrenched from Tugger’s side, being dragged forward by magic. The little tux let out a loud howl of distress and Tugger jumped forward with a cry, grabbing Misto in his arms and breaking Macavity’s invisible grip. The Mystery Cat cackled cruelly as Tugger cradled his trembling mate.

“ENOUGH!” Munk bellowed, leaping forward to stand between his brothers. “Enough, Macavity! You’ve caused enough pain! Heal him, now!”

“Tut tut, Munkles, that wasn’t the deal,” Macavity smiled, reverting back to his oily voice. “I promised to heal your little magician and also to leave your tribe alone, which is very generous I do believe, but only _if_ said magician was handed over to me. It seems Tugsie here is unwilling to do that. Unwise, in my opinion - I don’t think that poor little thing has much more than an hour left, two hours tops, perhaps. What a shame; but why should I uphold my end of the bargain if you won’t?”

Tugger looked up at his oldest brother in horror. Misto was freezing in his arms, his form shivering and aching. His mate wouldn’t make it to the evening. He was going to die.

“WHY, MAC?” Tugger screamed, his voice shattering along with his heart. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHAT HAS HE DONE? WHAT HAVE I DONE TO MAKE YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?”

“You used to beg me to teach you how to be strong, Tugsie, and now you have the nerve to complain about my methods?”

“ARE YOU SAYING THAT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SOME SICK WAY OF _HELPING ME_?”

“Now, I shan’t lie to you, baby brother. My original plan was to take the Jellicles’ magical cat who stole Old Deuteronomy from me. But then, finding you with a mate? Well, that was an opportunity I just would never have been able to pass up. This was all a wonderfully happy coincidence, it is nice when these things align, is it not? 

“So basically, you couldn’t stand the thought that Tugger might be happy?” Munkustrap growled, a look of disgust on his face.

“Two birds, one stone,” he shrugged. “I want that magical cat,” Macavity’s voice suddenly dropped low, and all traces of humour vanished from his face, replaced with a greedy leer loaded with darkness. “I will have him, and if I have to take you two down to get him, so be it.”

Macavity pounced without warning, aiming straight for Mistoffelees. Munkustrap intercepted him, hitting him from the side and the two toms rolled over and over on the floor. Tugger jumped to his feet, crouching protectively over his mate. Macavity and Munkustrap clashed violently. Tugger was torn, he wanted to help Munk, but if Macavity got away from them Misto would be defenceless. There was a loud crash that sent several of the cardboard boxes flying, and the silver tabby was blown across the room. His side smashed into the floor and he skidded to a stop by Tugger’s feet. The maine coon yowled and nudged his brother, who opened his eyes with a groan. Munkustrap attempted to stand, but his legs gave out from under him.

“Everlasting, Munk, stay down,” Tugger hissed. He was thinking hard, he had to be quick. Macavity had now used quite a lot of magic. He knew from when Misto had rescued Old Deuteronomy that physically moving another cat, even one who really wanted to be moved, was extremely difficult and required a lot of power, so dragging even a greatly-weakened Mistoffelees across the room against his will would have costed Macavity a lot; and that explosion just there was no small thing either. Tugger did some quick maths, and estimated that Macavity must be very low on magical power. Sending a quick prayer to the Everlasting Cat that he was right, he braced himself and ran forward to continue the fight. He had to try and keep Macavity at a distance from Misto and Munk.

Macavity’s orange eyes blazed at him from the shadows and Tugger threw himself at him. He was magically thrown back, but not very far, not even close to how far he had been thrown back in the junkyard, and this time he was able to remain on his paws. It looked like he had been correct about the Mystery Cat’s magic, but there was no time to revel in being right. Even without his magic, Macavity was still a deadly fighter. The two brothers swiped and slashed at each other with their claws. Boxes flew everywhere. Tugger managed to rip Macavity’s ear with his teeth, but the ginger cat retaliated with a crippling slice to his shoulder. Tugger stumbled back, warm blood oozing from the wound, and it was the opening the other cat was waiting for.

Macavity slammed him into the ground and Tugger yowled as his injured shoulder took a heavy hit. The Mystery Cat loomed over him, slowly pressing his paw into Tugger’s wound. He bit down on his lip to stop himself screaming out as his shoulder exploded with pain. He heard Misto whine his name, and Munk scrambling, trying to get up to help him.

Macavity cast them an amused glance.

“It seems a shame to kill you now, Tugsie,” he said quietly, so only Tugger could hear. “It would be great fun to make you watch what I have planned for them.”

“Don’t touch them!” Tugger hissed, trying to swipe at Macavity, who merely snickered in his face. His scent was foul, the rotting smell that pervaded the area seemed to centre around him. Up close, Macavity’s orange eyes were streaked with red and his whiskers were bent out of shape; his coat was mangy and tangled and several of his teeth were broken.

“You can’t beat me, Tugsie,” he jeered. “I’m going to kill Munkles, and then I’m going to take your precious little mate and break him down, twist up the parts, and rebuild him into something you won’t even recognise. Run away now, little kit, and I’ll let you go. Save your own skin.”

“Never,” Tugger spat, struggling harder against Macavity’s grip.

“I mean it, Tugsie. I’ll even let you take Munkles with you! But your magician is dead to you either way. So why bother risking yourself for him?”

Tugger looked up then, and truly looked, deep into those bloodshot eyes… and saw nothing, nothing but cold and dark and hate. There was truly no trace of his big brother left. His Macavity was gone and he wasn’t coming back, and it was accepting this realisation, finally, that gave Tugger the strength to throw the Mystery Cat off of him, sending him flying. A new energy coursed through him, sweeping aside his previous misplaced emotions and blame. He staggered to his feet. He and Macavity began to circle each other, claws clattering against the stone floor.

“You’re a fool, Tugsie, and all of you will die for it,” Macavity snarled.

“You don’t understand love, Mac,” Tugger said, “I’d do anything for my mate, and I _will_ protect him.”

“Oh please,” Macavity hissed, “you sound just like dad. None of you get it, only power makes you strong! Love and feelings, they’re nothing but weaknesses!” He lunged at Tugger, who dodged, and knocked him into the wall. Macavity jumped back up and ran at him again, but Tugger was ready for him. Standing on his back paws, he launched himself forward, his front claws slashing Macavity’s face and chest. The Mystery Cat fell with a screech and a spray of blood, and Tugger immediately pounced, and pinned him to the ground. 

“Heal my mate,” Tugger demanded, pressing down hard on Macavity just as the ginger cat had done to Mistoffelees, back in the junkyard. His shoulder was shrieking in agony, but he pushed it aside, his sole focus was on the monster beneath him.

“What, are you going to kill me, Tugsie?” Macavity scoffed. “Your own brother? Ha! We both know you haven’t got it in you! Weak!” He spat in Tugger’s face.

“You’re no brother of mine, not any more,” Tugger snapped. “You don’t have power over me any more. I’m not weak. I love my mate, and my family; they make me strong - strong enough to defeat you.” He paused to let that sink in. The two cats glared at each other, furious orange meeting fierce gold. “Heal him, and I’ll let you go.”

“What’s happening to him is all your fault,” Macavity sneered. “You’ll only ever cause him pain, just like you do everyone else.”

“You’re wrong. Heal him.” 

“You think you can live happily ever after after this? You think your family will just take you back after what you’ve done to him and Munkles?”

“You did this, not me. Heal him.”

“That little runt will never take you back after this. He was attacked and poisoned because of you, because you were too weak, too pathetic to protect him. Then you dropped him at the enemy’s paws! What makes you think he won’t run away from you as fast as he can?”

Macavity leaned back with a smirk, clearly believing he had just landed a fatal blow. A week ago, he would have been right.

“Misto is my _mate_ , you ignorant fleabag,” Tugger stated, fluffing his mane proudly. “Let me break that down for you, since you clearly don’t understand what it means. It means that I love him, and he loves me, through thick and thin. It means that we’ll always be there for each other, no matter what. It means that I’d go to the ends of the earth for him, and him for me. It means we’re partners, that everything we do, we do it together, we support each other, that we never have to face our problems alone. It means that no one, not even a lunatic like you, can come between us. So heal him, fishbrain, before I change my mind about letting you go in one piece.”

Tugger swatted at Macavity’s torn ear, making him yowl with pain and writhe desperately underneath him, trying to escape. He held fast, and batted the ear again, ignoring his own searing shoulder pain. It would be worth it, it would all be worth it if-

“Fine!” Macavity snapped, “I’ll heal your precious little _mate_!” The Mystery Cat screwed up his face and made a twirling motion with his paws. Tugger heard a popping sound, followed by a tiny gasp. He swirled his head around. 

Mistoffelees was slowly getting up, taking several deep gulps of air. He could breathe again! He was longer wheezing, or wincing as he moved. He was healed. Tugger leapt off of Macavity and ran. With a cry of delight he scooped up his mate, spinning them both round in circles. Misto laughed and clung to Tugger, who hugged him tight and covered him with kisses. He was still thin and very weak, but he was _alive_ , he wasn’t going to die, the poison was gone.

“ _Misto_ ,” he sighed, dropping his face into his mate’s neck, just holding him, breathing him in. His scent, which had been warped by the tang of illness, was back to its normal, comforting smell of mint and honey. Tugger inhaled it deeply, trying desperately not to break down sobbing. He thought he might burst from all the emotions his body was trying to feel at once; joy, fear, relief, stress, anger, love, and hope were all in a jumble he couldn’t work out. It didn’t matter, that could come later when there was more time to decompress. Right now, he just wanted to be in this moment.

He crouched down quickly and hauled Munkustrap up to join the hug, holding on to his family tight. Munk sighed happily and leaned on him, he looked shaken up, but he didn’t seem too hurt. A good sleep and a bit of TLC and he’d be right as rain.

The three of them stood there for a moment, encased in their happy bubble, when suddenly Tugger and Munkustrap were blasted to the side. Tugger rolled over, tumbling into a pile of cardboard boxes. His head snapped up and he saw an orange blur rush into the space he had just been in. He cursed himself. How could he have been so stupid to turn his back on Macavity? He shouldn’t have taken his eyes off of him for even a second! His shoulder flared up again and he ran his paw over it, jumping when he gave himself an electric shock. Looking down, he saw his mane crackle slightly with electricity. Misto? Misto had thrown them aside! He must have seen Macavity move over Tugger’s shoulder. 

“Misto!” he cried, fear flooding his body. He scrambled to his feet, pulling Munk with him, knocking boxes roughly out of his way. He frantically scanned the lair, but he couldn’t see or hear Misto or Macavity. His heart pounded in his chest as he called for his mate again, hearing his voice grow higher in his panic. 

A loud howl of pain slashed through his ears. Tugger’s fur stood on end, and he shivered. Everlasting, it sounded like… no, please say that horrible sound hadn’t come from his mate! Tugger had to get to him, _now_. Mistoffelees was tough, but he was completely worn out! An injured and angry Macavity could very well go for the kill. Anxiety clawed up his stomach. Misto was finally free, losing him now was not an option! Tugger started forward, knocking box after box out of the way. He yelled Misto’s name again, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

All of a sudden, a bolt of electricity ripped through the lair, illuminating the warehouse for a brief moment. An orange blur shot across the room and crashed into the opposite wall, creating an avalanche of cardboard and dust. 

Tugger and Munkustrap froze, unsure of what exactly just happened. Munk snapped out of it first.

“You go to Mistoffelees, I’ll get Macavity.”

Tugger took off immediately, trusting that the silver tabby would be okay. His shoulder was throwing off his gait, but he was still able to cross the floor quickly. He reached the spot where it looked like the electricity had originated. The floor beneath his paws felt warm. Looking down, he saw it was scorched.

“Misto? Are you there? Talk to me, love.” Tugger poked his head around the rubble and heard a quiet mewl. Battering aside broken boxes, Tugger uncovered his mate. Misto was lying on his side on the floor, breathing heavily, completely alone. His ears perked up when he heard someone approach, but he immediately relaxed upon seeing the maine coon.

“I got him, Tugs,” he panted, shooting his mate a soft smile. He was completely and utterly exhausted, but he was healthier than Tugger had seen in weeks.

“I saw! Damn, Sparkles, you’re electrifying.” Tugger trotted towards him with a wink, feeling very proud.

“And you’re a terrible flirt.”

“You know what you signed up for, babe.”

Misto huffed a laugh and began to sit up. Tugger froze. His mate’s pretty white chest ruffles were scarlet, three deep scratches stretched from the bottom of his cheek to the middle of his chest. Misto’s smile faded when he saw Tugger stare.

“Yeah, he got me a bit first,” Misto looked down at his fur, slightly troubled. “Sorry, it’s not very attractive, is it?”

“Come off it,” Tugger scoffed, quickly pulling his face under control. “You’re gorgeous!”

“Hmm.” 

Tugger sat down beside him and pulled him into his arms. He knew why he was bothered. While Tugger’s thick fur would cover the evidence of his shoulder wound, Misto’s coat, whilst beautiful and sleek, was rather thin. His ruffles would cover his chest, but his face and neck would probably always be noticeably marred.

“I mean it, Misto. You’re so beautiful, and this does not take away from that at all. Besides, scars are extremely cool. You fought off _Macavity_ , love, that took some serious guts, you should be proud!”

“You were the one who beat him, Tugs. I just… reminded him of that. You were amazing. You’ll be after Munk’s job as Jellicle Protector.”

Tugger snorted.

“Nah, you’re alright. That sounds way too much like hard work. And besides, I’m rather fond of our afternoon naps, can’t have anything getting in the way of that!”

“Oh, of course not, best part of the day!” Misto said with a smile. He looked up at him lovingly, causing Tugger’s heart to skip several beats. “You really did it, Tugs. You broke his spell on you, and you saved my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, right? It feels weird. But like, in a good way. Like I’m free.” He leant down and kissed his mate’s forehead, nuzzling him affectionately. “You don’t have to thank me, love, you’re literally like, my whole entire heart. Although,” he continued, lightening his tone, “if you felt like lavishing me with boundless praise and affection, you’d be more than welcome to.” 

“Sure, Tugs,” Misto laughed. “Like you’d even know how to react if I ever did hero-worship you like you’re always telling me to.”

Tugger laughed along with him. It was very true. That would be highly uncomfortable for both of them. Tugger needed Misto to ground him, and Misto needed Tugger to boost him up. It was a very happy balance they had found within each other.

“I wouldn’t change a thing about us,” Tugger declared firmly.

“Neither would I.”

At that moment they heard a clatter as Munkustrap rounded the corner, breathing a massive sigh of relief upon seeing them.

“He’s gone!” he cried, before clutching his ribs with a wince. “I saw where he escaped,” he continued, more quietly. “It looked like he crash-landed. I think he was injured, it looked like he was stumbling about a lot. We could probably find him if we took chase, but… I think it would be best if we also stepped back for now. We could all use some rest and some medical attention, I think.” He paused, as if expecting them to disagree. He surveyed the two of them closely and said: “I’m so proud of both of you.”

“Thank you, Munkustrap,” Misto said softly, “for everything. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Munk replied with a smile. “We’re family. We look after one another. Now come on, let’s get home.”

Tugger grinned and stood up, pulling Misto with him. His mate took one wobbly, unstable step before falling sideways, his body simply too tired to carry on. Tugger moved to catch him, grunting in pain when Misto landed on his injured shoulder. He couldn’t cover for himself quickly enough, and Misto gasped when he saw the wound. 

“You’re hurt!” he cried. “Why didn’t you say?”

“You’re burnt out to the point where you can barely stand and you want to worry about this little scrape? Come off it!”

“That’s hardly a _little scrape_ , that needs looked at!”

“Come on, Misto! It’s hardly-”

“Both of you stop!” Munk butted in, scrubbing his face with a paw, wearing a familiar look of weary exasperation. “You can squabble as much as you want after we’re back in the junkyard, and _after_ you’ve _both_ been seen by Jennyanydots and Jellylorum!”

The two of them stopped and stared at him. The moment he looked away, Tugger caught Misto’s eye and pulled a face. His mate snickered quietly, but instantly composed himself when Munk turned back to them. Together they made their way back outside, Munk and Tugger supporting Misto between them. Munk was more hurt than he was letting on, Tugger noticed, he kept veering to the one side, and Misto, he was never going to be able to walk all the way back to the junkyard, alone or supported.

Stepping outside, they greeted a rather smug Alonzo, who explained in proud detail about how he had fought off three different henchcats in succession. After enjoying a moment of admiration, Alonzo bounded forward to help. After a brief but fierce argument it was decided that Munk would be supported by Alonzo, and Tugger would carry Misto. 

As suspected, now that Misto was healed, he protested furiously against being carried. He hissed that Tugger’s shoulder was injured, but Tugger argued that out of all of them he was in the best shape (barring Alonzo of course). He also absolutely point-blank refused to let anyone else carry his mate. Misto eventually only consented to it when he realised that Munk would need to be supported all the way home, and settled onto Tugger’s back with a mutinous expression. Tugger understood his frustration at feeling helpless, and let him grumble. 

They set off, desperate to get home and rest. Tugger’s shoulder twinged painfully with every step. He bit back winces, and tried to walk as steadily as possible, but it didn’t escape Mistoffelees’ notice.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. His grumpy edge vanished as he nuzzled into Tugger’s mane.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s not that bad, love. Look, I’m carrying you fine, amn’t I?”

“You’re limping,” he replied stubbornly.

“Look who’s talking!” Tugger laughed. “I hope it scars, scars are cool.”

Misto leaned forward and gently licked the cut. The casual affection sent pleasant shivers through his skin. Suddenly it seemed like his shoulder hardly hurt at all.

“I never wanted you to get hurt because of me,” Misto said sadly.

Tugger sighed, and dropped his joking tone.

“Listen, Misto. This isn’t your fault, it’s Macavity’s. This scar? I’m gonna be proud of it. I’m proud I was able to beat him and to break his hold on me. It’ll remind me that I’m good enough, that I’m strong enough to protect the ones I care about, and to never give him power over me again.”

Misto leaned his face into Tugger’s back, purring gently, and Tugger felt him smile into his fur.

“Proud of you, Tugs. Love you,” he added with a yawn.

“Love you too, Sparkles.”

He felt his mate’s breathing deepen as he dropped off to sleep. About time, he thought. When was the last time Misto had been able to properly rest? Tugger was very much looking forward to curling up in his den and sleeping for a week. Curling up with his mate, of course, who he wouldn’t have to lie awake worrying about, stomach tying itself in knots about whether or not he’d still be alive when Tugger woke up. Yup, he would not be sad to see the back of that. Not at all.

The sun was only just beginning to descend when they arrived back at the entrance to the junkyard. It felt like they had been gone for ages, how could it only have been an hour or so? They saw the Jellicles before the Jellicles saw them. The first cat he saw was Old Deuteronomy. His father was sitting on his tyre, kittens lying at his feet, one arm around Skimbleshanks, the other around Victoria. Skimble was back, then! The Railway Cat would be furious that they went without him, but it wasn’t like they had a whole lot of choice, really. Coming in, they were met with several shrieks of delight.

Misto was woken by the commotion, and quickly slid from Tugger’s back into the arms of his father and sister. Tugger stepped back. He didn’t want to intrude on their family moment. He was pulled into a hug by his own father, and allowed himself, for the first time in weeks, to finally relax. Old Deuteronomy’s comforting scent and embrace wrapped over him like a favourite blanket, and he allowed the excited energy of the tribe to pass him by. Munk was enveloped by Demeter and Jemima; Alonzo was preening, dramatically reenacting his day for the kittens. He also kept shooting furtive glances at Cassandra, Tugger noticed, as if to make sure she in particular was paying attention. 

His own focus honed in on his mate, who was now being fussed over by Jenny and looking deeply uncomfortable. Tugger broke free of his father and made his way over to him. Victoria intercepted him and hugged him tight. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. He could feel how grateful and happy she was as they embraced.

Skimbleshanks caught his eye over Victoria’s shoulder and held his gaze. There were a lot of emotions in his eyes, which Tugger tried to accept as best he could. Skimble broke it with a nod and a tiny smile. He hugged his son and stepped back, moving over to check on Munkustrap. It was almost like a symbolic gesture. Tugger took his place at Misto’s side with pride, feeling like he had finally gained the older cat’s approval. Seeing Skimble’s bittersweet expression, it meant more than he cared to admit. He wrapped his arms around Misto’s waist, carefully avoiding his injury, and nuzzled him affectionately as other Jellicles started to come over to drag them into an impromptu party.

Mistoffelees could barely stay awake, preferring to lean against Tugger and watch everyone else dance. For once Tugger was happy to not be the centre of attention. He enjoyed a couple of dances with the kittens, but retired very early to return to Misto’s side. It was nice to just sit with his mate, breathing him in and not having to worry about him. That said, it was a relief when Jenny jumped up on a tyre and yelled that they all needed rest and were to go straight to bed. 

Back in their den, Tugger sat his mate down and groomed him thoroughly, taking special care around his wounds. He’d have to make sure to make Misto feel beautiful until he grew accustomed to his altered appearance. Since he was stunning anyway, it shouldn’t be too hard. His mate purred deeply, sleepy and content under Tugger’s ministrations. 

To Misto’s satisfaction, Jenny and Jelly had completely vetoed Tugger continuing to carry him about after looking at his shoulder. It was unsurprising, but still slightly disappointing. He had grown rather fond of picking up his mate. As he groomed him, he attempted to argue Misto down, and eventually gained his permission to pick him up and twirl him even when they weren’t dancing, but under no circumstances was he allowed to carry him on his back again “like some sort of human child”, as Misto called it. Ah well. Relationships were all about compromise after all. Tugger was mostly just overjoyed that he still _had_ a mate to compromise with. Life was good. He lay down beside his magical cat. Jenny and Jelly had ordered Misto to take it easy over the next few days, but were confident he would be absolutely fine. What more could a maine coon want?

Tugger awoke the following evening, feeling deeply refreshed after a full day of sleep. His shoulder hardly hurt at all. It throbbed slightly, but it was easily ignored. Jenny and Jelly had done a stellar job patching it up. He owed them thanks, and a lot of them for everything they had done not only for him, but for Mistoffelees as well. 

Speaking of his mate, Misto wasn’t curled up beside him where Tugger had left him. Looking up with a curious mewl, he saw his magical cat sitting at the end of the bed, paws sparking. Glittering lights danced around their den, Misto’s signature sparkles. The effect was stunning, almost like when the humans set off fireworks, except without the horrible noise. Again, he noticed that feeling of wonder and joy Misto’s magic had. The thought that it could be evil or used to cause harm like Macavity’s was ludicrous. Tugger watched in awe as the lights jumped and flickered. Tugger knew he should warn him to take it easy, but then Misto turned to him with a smile so happy and bright Tugger was briefly blinded. He let his words die in his throat, unable and unwilling to take this moment away from him. 

Misto gathered the lights into a ball in his paws, and his beautiful smile turned mischievous. Tugger realised what was happening just a moment too late. Misto launched the ball of lights right at him and it exploded in his face, absolutely drenching him in glitter. Tugger jumped to his feet with a yowl, shaking his fur in vain. This would take _weeks_ to get out, and Misto knew it!

He launched forward and pinned his mate to the floor, trying to shake out as much of the glitter as he could. Misto howled with laughter underneath him. Tugger leaned down and licked and kissed him all over his face and ears, unable to pretend he was the least bit angry. How could he be? There wasn’t anything he could think of that could improve this moment. His mate was back, really back, and in a week or so would be up to full health again, scarred but still totally exquisite, marvellous and magical. 

“How’re you feeling, gorgeous?” he asked.

“Best I have in days, handsome.”

A feeling of deep bliss warmed Tugger from the inside out. Misto certainly looked healthier. There was certainly still some time to rest and heal needed, but when his mate looked up at him, his eyes were bright and playful.

“Tugs?”

“Hmm?”

Misto reached up and ran his paws through Tugger’s mane.

“As much fun as this whole thing was, let’s never do it again, okay?”

“That sounds fair, yeah,” Tugger agreed with a laugh, flopping down on the floor next to his mate. “I don’t really fit the traditional hero role, do I?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You put on quite the show, my big strong defender. And that speech? Enough to make any cat swoon.”

“You were barely even conscious yet you still caught that? My reputation is _ruined_ _._ ”

“It was all very sweet. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“How kind of you. What will you be wanting in return for such a service?”

Misto hooked their arms and rolled so that he was lying on top of Tugger’s chest. 

“Aside from not ever letting anyone know I swooned? How about the chance to thank you for everything without you trying to brush it off?”

“Misto…”

“Sh.” Misto placed a paw over his mouth. “Let me say it just once. In a few minutes it’ll all be over.” His mate took a deep breath, clean and clear and rattle-free. “Thank you, Tugger, for everything. I know it’s been hard on you. I really appreciate the lengths you went to to make me comfortable and keep me safe, and how you always kept a smile on your face for me. I’m so proud of you, of the way you handled this, of how you overcame Macavity, of everything. Everlasting, I’m just really proud to call you my mate!”

Misto finished and quickly nuzzled into his mane. Tugger was extremely grateful he did, for his eyes had become dangerously watery.

“I… I love you, Misto,” he said weakly. How was he supposed to respond to that? He felt distinctly overwhelmed.

“Love you too.” Misto’s voice was muffled, still pressing into Tugger’s fur, and Tugger realised he wasn’t the only one trying to hide his face. The thought made him laugh out loud, and he reached up and ran a paw over his mate’s ears, his heart bursting with warmth.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he said softly. Misto looked up and smiled at him. There was something vulnerable in it, and Tugger knew that he had truly meant every word of what he said. Everlasting, he was too adorable. He leaned up and kissed his mate’s forehead, savouring the softness of the moment, before continuing more lightheartedly, “I’d say ‘anytime’, but I definitely agree that we really shouldn’t do this again.”

“D-Deal,” Misto nodded, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Bed,” Tugger instructed, not fooled. Misto rolled his eyes and pouted. 

“You’re a terrible bore.”

“Maybe so, but Jenny will have my head if I let you do too much.” 

“How responsible you’ve become,” Misto laughed.

“Hey, I’d do round two with the mutant rats before even thinking about crossing Jennyanydots! No one can put the fear in you like she can,” Tugger argued, suppressing a shudder at the mere thought.

“I’ll rest if you do.” Misto pressed his paw into Tugger’s collarbone, looking pointedly at his shoulder. Tugger weighed his options. The thought of just kicking back with his mate was very appealing indeed, and he was sure that one of the other Jellicles would hunt for them if he put on a bit of a show about how awfully painful his poor shoulder was. Plato, maybe? He could offer to put in a good word with Victoria, he had noticed that the young tom’s eye had been hopefully following the white queen as of late. Also, very importantly, Misto was highly likely to try to sneak out if Tugger took his eyes off of him for even a moment. 

Oh dear, it looked like he would just have to spend several days relaxing peacefully with his wonderful magical Mistoffelees. What a chore.

“You drive a hard bargain, Sparkles, but I accept,” he drawled. Misto snorted and bopped Tugger’s nose with his paw. Tugger huffed in mock irritation, rolling over and jumping to his feet, pulling Misto with him. Standing up, the little tux shook slightly on his paws. Tugger guided them over to the bed and tumbled onto the pile of soft cushions and blankets. He heard Misto yawn again and curled around him with a grin. His mate snuggled into his mane and Tugger kissed the top of his head. Yeah, he could get very used to this. He couldn’t wait until everything was back to normal, and they could start to fully enjoy mated life. But for now, Tugger would rest, and look forward to their future.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come yell at me on Tumblr at afairytalestray


End file.
